


The Force That Binds

by Celestial_Alignment



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Canon Compliant, Canon Divergence - Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, Cunnilingus, Darth Vader - Freeform, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Force Bond (Star Wars), Love Triangle, Love Triangles, Manipulative Sheev Palpatine, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker are Brothers, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, Obidala, Oral Sex, POV Obi-Wan Kenobi, POV Padmé Amidala, Plot, Romantic Angst, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:55:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 93,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21656386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celestial_Alignment/pseuds/Celestial_Alignment
Summary: Padme and Obi-Wan have been friends since they met on Naboo, until one day they become more. But there are things like duty and codes standing in the way. Canon Compliant as far as Episode 2. Diverges with Episode 3.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker | Darth Vader, Padmé Amidala/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 235
Kudos: 371





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well hi. I felt a mighty need to write an Obidala fic that follows canon, since there is a shortage of them. Purely indulgent angst and fluff with some nsfw sprinkled in. If you're not a fan of the dirty stuff, I'll be posting a clean version of it over on Fanfiction.net. (Edit: Okay, so I've deviated from Canon since I put this note. It splits from canon between Episode 2 and 3.)

Six years after the Battle of Naboo, and only yesterday she was still the queen. The new sovereign, Queen Jamillia, had elected her senator, for which Padme was grateful. She had planned for this day, looked forward to the new found freedom she could have as a representative in the senate. But losing her crown, even though her successor was equally up to the task was still bittersweet. She left immediately for Coruscant to begin settling into her new position and re-introduce herself to the Galactic Senate as Senator Padme Amidala, former Queen of Naboo. 

In the six years after that day, Padme had seen Obi-Wan Kenobi on multiple occasions. Eight, that she could count. He occasionally visited Naboo for security detail, or they would encounter one another when she would have political business on Coruscant. They always greeted one another as friends, and she never forgot how grateful she was for the young Jedi and his master for helping them towards victory when Naboo was at its most vulnerable.  
And who should be on the landing platform when she emerged from her ship?

Obi-Wan Kenobi.

He stood with Chancellor Palpatine, and a few other delegates in the official welcome party, but the young Jedi had caught her eye immediately and they exchanged warm smiles. His smile, admittedly, was a little more muted. Typical Jedi.

She was unable to greet him first, as the Chancellor did most of the talking, and she did not care for her own guards to think that she had special favoritism. She did have a bias for Obi-Wan, however. She was just a girl when they first met, he was a young man still a little hot headed but the perfect padawan. She always had immense respect for him, and maybe, when she was still a teenager of course, had a crush on him. Her handmaidens certainly did. They giggled when he left the room in a way that a queen was not permitted.

Now he was a man and only just beginning to grow out his beard, his hair getting longer behind his ears. It seemed to be an unspoken tradition of Jedi Masters to grow out beards and let their hair grow long (a tradition of the human variety, at least). The beard was still mere shadow of whiskers, and she found the look cut sharper angles into his jaw, made him look a little more rugged than perhaps was his intention. But there would always be the awkward in-between transition of growing out a beard, and she found that it made something flutter in her stomach.

Chancellor Palpatine invited her to a dinner and excused himself to return to Galactic business, and he paraded away with his train of people. Obi-Wan stayed behind. Though he had already greeted her formally, he bowed to her again, this time with a hint of a smirk and a glimmer in his eye that made her smile more genuinely.

“Senator,” he said.

“It’s not necessary to bow anymore, Master Kenobi…. I’m not a queen.”

“From a certain point of view, perhaps…”

That response baffled her, and she could only think to laugh and shake her head at him. “From the point of view of the Naboo government and the Galactic Republic… And my own. I only ever felt like a queen in title only… Where is Anakin?” She asked about the boy every time they met and the answer was usually more or less the same.

“He is in training with Master Yoda at the Jedi temple…”

“I hope I will be able to see him again soon. I can’t imagine how he’s changed since he was that boy on Tatooine.”

Obi-Wan chuckled. “You can imagine him much the same. Only taller.”

They laughed together, the first genuine laugh she had had in awhile, and it was not even a great joke.

“I too must return to business…” he said, inhaling in what she anticipated to emerge as a sigh. But he restrained it.

“I hope I will see you again soon,” she held her hand out to him.

He took it, and she thought perhaps his hand lingered longer than usual. Or did she imagine it? And then he walked away and out of her sight.  


* * *

  
Obi-Wan was at the Chancellor’s dinner, seated across the vast hexagonal table from Padme, and sitting beside him was Master Mace Windu. They had been specially invited by the Chancellor for the event, as representatives for the Jedi Council. It was filled with Galactic delegates, all talking over each other. It was established that no one would talk shop, that any conversation of state should be kept private or saved for the council.

So, there were friendly debates about Droid rights, what holocroms were the latest or preferred for whatever business. When dinner was concluded and everyone was free to walk around with their drink of choice, Padme wandered and mingled, catching up with acquaintances, sharing strained civility with opposing factions, and eventually wending her way to where a few people gathered to interrogate the only two Jedi present.

She stood with her drink, watching how calm the two Jedi were with the barrage of boring or polarizing questions that came their way. She caught Obi-Wan’s eye—that is, he caught her staring at him. She turned her gaze immediately back to the debating delegates. She occasionally glanced back to him, and every time she did, Obi-Wan happened to be glancing away too. The room was feeling warmer and warmer, maybe the drink was getting to her.

She politely excused herself to go out to the balcony. They were miles up in the Chancellor’s building, spread out below was the sea of dazzling lights and dizzying heights, speeders in rows and flying droids in between. She didn’t mind that this busy, cluttered world would be her other home. Her life would now be divided between two worlds, Coruscant and Naboo, and here she could finally work towards empowering democracy throughout the galaxy.

Yet, somehow as she thought about her role here as senator, she was thinking again about Obi-Wan. She found herself wishing there were not so many people around to distract her from talking with her old friend.

“Are you alright, Senator?” his voice was behind her and she turned swiftly, chuckling at her own jumpiness.

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you…”

“I didn’t mean to startle you…” He stood beside her, looking out over the city, his hands concealed in the sleeves of his billowing cloak. Even after being accosted by all those politicians, he was as serene as ever, and alone, she realized, when she glanced over her shoulder.

“How ever did you manage to escape them?”

He smiled cryptically.

“Don’t tell me you used your Jedi mind tricks to avoid social obligation…” she looked askance at him, playfully accusing him.

“Well…” he tipped his head. “There is a tried and true maneuver that all Jedi use when they require leave of themselves or others…”

She looked curiously at him and he held the light smirk.

“We say ‘Jedi Business’.”

She laughed, knowing full well that no one questioned those two words. “Then what is the Jedi business that brings you out in to the cold air?”

“Ensuring that milady is well. You left so suddenly, I thought…” he trailed off.

She shook her head, still smiling and placed a hand on his arm. “It was a long journey coming here and I think the travel has worn on me…”

He unfolded his arms, taking it out of her reach and even taking half a step away from her. Jedi were infamously aloof. Obi-Wan had only ever been friendly and warm to her, that the small retraction from her cut deep. Her smile faded and she told herself she understood. They were friends, that did not mean it was acceptable to be overly familiar with the Jedi knight.

“I would be happy to escort you home, if you’re ready to leave… I’m sure Chancellor Palpatine would understand.”

He moved away, but offered himself as her chaperone. Jedi chivalry, nothing more.

“I do not wish to pull you from your own duties, Master Kenobi…”

He dipped his chin for a moment, then he nodded. “I understand. However, you misunderstand me… I would be honored if you would give me the opportunity to excuse myself from this obligatory party.”

There it was again, that charming smirk of his, the dimples just barely visible beneath the whiskers. And she could not help smiling again. He played the part of a Jedi well, but Obi-Wan had always had that charm about him where most Jedi seemed so dry.

At that moment Senator Hault-Botaff came swaggering in, his snood dangling with each step and his beady black eyes glimmering in the city light.

“Ah, Senator Padme…” his voice gurgled and his taloned fingers wriggled thoughtfully in her direction. “I hoped you would indulge me by listening to my theories of tariffs and tolls around certain planets in the outer rim—not Naboo of course… I merely wished to discuss the pros and the cons of such moves, I am not proposing one way or the other, these sorts of things are not currently under discussion in the council, as you know…”

He continued to talk she glanced to Obi-Wan, seeing his face as stoic as ever as he patiently listened to the rambling politician.

“I would love to, Senator Hault-Botaff…” she interjected when he seemed to pause for breath. “However, I’m afraid I’m quite tired from my journey and would not be much insight in the conversation. Perhaps another time?”

“Oh… My apologies, Senator Padme, how thoughtless of me… Master Jedi, perhaps you would--"

Obi-Wan graciously bowed. "I have little to offer in the way of politics, Senator. I am but a humble peacekeeper. And I feel responsible for chaperoning Senator Padme to her home."

"I understand…" and Senator Hault-Botaff grumbled his disappointment and waddled away to another vulnerable ear.

Padme led the way, seeing in her peripheral that Obi-Wan was following. She made her salutations to Chancellor Palpatine, and he made his excuses to Master Windu, and the two of them took the elevator to where her speeder waited.

They arrived at her apartment. It was still rather empty, decorated with generic sculptures, a small fountain near the window. It was far from lived in, but this was what she was used to. Her handmaiden lived her own quarters neighboring these. The lights detected her return home and faded on, spilling into the place in a blue light. She went to the panel on the wall, touching the buttons to change the colors of the lights from blue to yellow.

“I like the warmer lights…” she felt the need to explain herself. “Reminds me of Naboo…”

Obi-Wan was lingering at the door, looking curiously around at her new living space, his hands once again concealed in his sleeves. Even in the yellow light his eyes were such a deep blue, his hair looking more gold than she realized it was. He smiled a little.

“Anakin has similar preferences… He still isn’t very fond of the cold…”

She smiled, remembering how he shivered on the space ship when he left Tatooine for the first time. Her heart never did stop breaking for the boy, to be separated from his mother, to leave her behind in slavery. Padme had dreams of finding a way to abolish slavery throughout the Republic, to free those in servitude, but the task was too large and too complicated.

“I guess it takes more than six years to grow accustomed to a new life…” she said, distractedly looking to the window where the lights of Coruscant flashed through. Six years as Queen Amidala, and now it was over.

“You’re unhappy…” he was approaching her, his voice gentle and understanding. “I’ve sensed it all through the night. You will be as successful as a senator as you were a queen, I have no doubt of it.”

She managed a small smile and faced him. “I was relieved when my second term finally ended… I was eager to get back to my outreach work in the system, or focus on other issues in the council, but… it only just hit me that I’m no longer Queen Amidala and never will be again… I loved my people and the palace…”

Her throat felt tight, and her eyes stung, and against her will a single tear fell. She laughed self-consciously and quickly swiped it away.

“I’m sorry, it’s silly to be sad… I’m no Jedi…”

His eyes never left her, never judged her. “There is no shame in having these feelings, Padme… A Jedi is required to be in control of their feelings, you’re not. You are allowed to mourn the end of a chapter in your life while simultaneously celebrating the beginning of a new one. It’s a part of life we must all face sooner or later.”

He spoke so wisely and she couldn’t tell if it was some innate sage philosophy that every Jedi learned through doctrine or meditation, or if he was speaking from experience. He too had suffered an immense loss in their history together.

“Were you allowed to cry when Master Qui-Gon was killed?”

There was the subtlest hint of hardness in his expression, so subtle it would be easy to miss in a blink, but enough to strike her with shame.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “That was thoughtless…”

He was shaking his head, perhaps to make her feel better. “I was young. I was overwrought with many emotions that day… I felt rage and sorrow the likes of which I have not endured since or allowed to surface since…”

There was a furrow in his brow as he spoke about it. She was sorry to have been the one to make him frown, but she could not help being transfixed, hearing him speak of something so personal.

“That is why Jedis cannot form attachments…” he met her gaze as he said this, in a way that made her shudder and feel so far away from him, though they were only inches apart.

“How can you not be attached to your own master?” she challenged, though she said it softly.

He sighed and smiled sadly. “I am sure some padawan or other has solved that riddle. But I have not.” The smile became more mischievous. “Perhaps we could ask Anakin.”

But she couldn’t smile, not after seeing the pain she caused in him. “I doubt even Anakin would be able to avoid attachment to his master.”

He made no reply. Maybe she said too much. She wanted to take away the pain she caused and instinct had her reaching out to him. He sucked in a breath and stepped back, out of her reach.

“I have over stayed my welcome… My apologies, Senator.”

“You don’t need to be so formal with me, Obi-Wan…” she couldn’t speak louder than a whisper.

He still stepped away. “I think that I do. Goodnight, my lady. I hope our paths will cross again soon.”

He turned on his heel in a sway of brown cloak and he was out the door, leaving her alone in the warm light of her apartment. In his absence she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she had feelings for Obi-Wan Kenobi and he was not allowed the same.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the fic gets steamier. If characters doing the dirty isn't your cup of tea, I'm posting a SFW version over on Fanfiction dot net. Also, thank you to all the enthusiastic responses! I guess I'm not the only one who needed more Obidala.

Two years later, she saw him again.

  
There was a coup on the planet Saskiel where the Regent overthrew his father so that the planet could join in the spreading separatist movement in the galaxy. Though the regent, Yook Gibodehan, had his followers in his ideology for their world to leave the Galactic Republic, that did not mean that all of the citizens of the planet agreed. There were clashes in every province, and the price was innocents caught in the middle.

A group of thousands of refugees were driven into the mountains, the Canubi Heights. There was an anti-separatist province just on the other side of the mountain range, but the refugees had been forced to travel on foot and became trapped in the snow without enough supplies to make it through.

The refugees were only just able to send out a call for help. There was no word from the Jedi whether or not they could help. The order of knights were stretched thin throughout the galaxy as it was trying to maintain the peace, and the senate was stymied in debates on whether or not it would be an act of war to provide assistance to one side or the other. While they debated, Senator Padme secretly left Coruscant with a small ship filled with supplies.

She took only a couple of people from her staff to help, those she trusted the most: Dorme and Corde. Try as they may to talk her out of this clandestine and possibly illegal (Senate was still debating that), they were still by her side to render aid. Even they could not deny that these refugees were families, with children, who had no say in the conflict but suffered the most. Padme knew she could be of the most use out here and not in the council.

They flew directly to the refugee encampment and unloaded crate after crate of food, clothes, generators, even a handful of droids that could help carry their things. These items were manufactured in one place, but this one place distributed to countless aid programs throughout the galaxy. It would take time to track it back to Naboo, or even Senator Amidala.

The mountain range was far too uneven and there was no place for her ship to land, so she managed to convince her two handmaidens to take the ship and wait for her to call and come get her. Padme would not take no for an answer when she asked to stay with the refugees. Dorme especially was not happy, it made her job as handmaiden and protector impossible, but she could not argue against the worsening weather and the potential crashing of their ship. So she left the senator alone, but assured her she would be close in orbit waiting for her call. And stressing every moment.

The snow was falling so heavily, the flakes the size of a human’s thumb, and they were getting deeper and deeper in it by the hour. Padme was wearing her warmest attire, a fur-line hood, boots up to her thighs, gloves to her elbows, a heavy white cloak that wrapped around her twice, and layer upon layer of thermal fabrics, a mask and snow goggles. A blaster on her thigh.

Hours were spent erecting the encampment, the children sent into the shelters as they were put up. Padme couldn’t feel her fingers or toes, but that didn’t stop her. She was helping a Saskien woman pull a sled of belongings to one of the tents when there was a shout from the trees, just barely audible over the howl of the storm.

  
“Droids!” a man called, clamoring through the deep snow and waving his rifle.

He had gone out with three others to patrol and was returning alone. Right behind him there came a handful of battle droids—Federation droids to be exact, and rolling up alongside them in a spray of powder were destroyers. They were not supposed to be on this planet. This meant the Trade Federation was getting involved.

  
“Take cover!” she shouted to the woman, who immediately complied.

Padme drew her blaster and fired at the destroyers, but their shields protected them. So she aimed at the droids who walked slowly along, firing at everyone along the way. The scout who raised the alarm was shot dead in the snow, others immediately meeting the same fate.

The encampment was getting shot to pieces, people were getting killed, and Padme herself was pinned down behind a crate, droids blasting from all sides, one in particular pounding into the crate she was ducked behind.

Then it stopped. Then another stopped. Then another.

“Jedi!” She heard a droid scream. “Kill the Jedi!”

“Roger, roger!”

All the droid fire turned and Padme dared to poke her head out. Sure enough, in the mist of the snow storm, there was the tell tale bar of blue light swiping and spinning, the beam hazed by the snow. It would have been more mesmerizing if she wasn’t in fight or flight. The droids had their back to her now, so she fired at them. She was able to take out some of the battle droids, and within moments there was silence and smoke. 

While the refugees stayed behind cover, she emerged and hurried towards their Jedi rescuer. It was difficult to be graceful with the snow to her knees or frozen limbs, but she didn’t care.

“Well, you’re not Saskien…” said the Jedi, masked in snow gear of a deep blue snow jacket with fur-lined hood and goggles covering the upper parts of their face.

“No, I’m not…” she had to shout through her own face mask and the weather. “I came to render aid… Thank you for helping us! We can talk in here…” she gestured to one of the compounds and they followed her inside. 

It was infinitely warmer, thanks to the heating generators, and much, much quieter. She shook off some of the snow and stepped far enough inside of the small structure to allow enough space for two bodies, though these structures could comfortably hold up to 4. Seeing those battle droids had ignited an old fear and rage in her. Viceroy Nute Gunray had been nothing but a menace to her in her life, always appearing and endangering her life and others. She was sick of him.

She re-holstered her blaster, not daring to set it far away from herself in case if more droids appeared. She then pushed back her hood and removed her goggles then the face mask.

“What is the Trade Federation doing here?” She didn’t hide her anger and confusion.

“Senator Amidala!”

That voice was familiar. The Jedi removed his hood and goggles. It was Obi-Wan Kenobi.

“Obi-Wan!” she stared. His beard was fuller than when she saw him last.

He was frowning as he moved nearer. “Padme, you are not supposed to be here any more than the Trade Federation is!”

“And what are _you_ doing here?”

“I was sent to answer the distress call from these refugees when I encountered a Trade Federation vessel orbiting the planet… They came to assist the Regent to support the separatists.”

There were flashes of eight years ago, on her homeworld, when they were invaded by this droid army with no one there to help. No one but two Jedi and a child. Her breath caught at the memory and the fear of seeing it happen again to the Saskiens.

“And the Jedi only sent you?”

“I was all that was available. My apprentice is not ready for such a critical mission and all other masters are in other parts of the galaxy…”

She was shaking her head in disgust. “And once again they forget about the worlds on the outer rim…”

Just like Naboo.

“But there are others coming,” he reassured gently. “I’ve sent a message about the Trade Federation’s presence here and they will be forced to send reinforcements. They will be here soon.”

That eased her fears for these people, but that did not quell her anger towards the useless council or the brazen Federation.

“In the meantime, you need to leave immediately, Senator.”

“I’m staying to help.”

“There is no other present danger and I will be here for them.”

“I don’t have a ship,” she said with finality.

“You what?”

“I don’t have a ship. I told them I would call when I was ready to go, and I’m not ready to go, Master Kenobi. I’m needed here.”

His lips parted in disbelief. “You are mad! You’re needed in the senate— _alive_. Politicians are supposed to delegate to other people, not do it themselves.”

“I couldn’t wait that long. I’ll be fine, you can leave.” She assumed that was the final word and she moved to put her mask back on, to go back out into the elements.

  
But a gloved hand gently touched her arm, stopping her. “Reinforcements will be here at any moment. When they arrive, will you leave then?”

Her immediate response would have been a no, but she recognized that he was compromising with her, that he knew her well enough to know that she would not walk away without certainty the situation was taken care of.

“Fine,” she said.

But she wasn’t going to wait in the warmth and comfort of this compound. She put her mask, goggles, and hood back on to go back out and help the people who had just been attacked. Obi-Wan was right with her, helping them rebuild their shelters. He was speaking with the men and women who had weapons, to fill them in on the situation. The droids that they had just destroyed were scouts only, they did not have a chance to report the whereabouts of the encampment to their superiors.

It was less than an hour when a troop of support came in the form of Saskiens accompanied by three other Jedi. The Saskiens were allies of the refugees, anti-separtists, and they had even more weapons and supplies with them. Padme finally felt content that these displaced people would be safe, that they had a good chance of making through the storm and over the mountain range to freedom.

She stepped into the warmth and shelter of the compound again to send a message to her handmaidens, but a cold blast of wind as the curtain was pulled aside alerted her that someone else entered. Obi-Wan was brushing off the snow.

“Senator, wait… I think it would be best if you told your staff that you will rendezvous with them back on Coruscant. It would be best if the Saskien government or the Trade Federation didn’t see a Naboo ship bringing aid to refugees… It could cause a great deal of trouble for you and your queen.”

“Are there that many ships around the planet?” There were so few orbiting the planet that it was easy for them to fly in.

“There are more and more by the hour…” he said simply.

“Very well…” she had to concede. He was right, after all. Turning on the hologram, she recorded her message, making sure that it was well encoded. “Dorme, we will follow code 92-blue…” She kept it simple and grabbed her communicator and looked expectantly to him. “I can only assume you will be taking me back to Coruscant.”

He nodded and gestured to the door.

Bundling up again, making sure her features were well concealed, she trekked out into the deep snow with him. He led her out into the trees. The wind was blowing so violently that the eddies of massive snowflakes whipped horizontally through the air, the depth of the snow making every step a struggle.

Obi-Wan had an arm at her waist, the other holding her arm, keeping her upright so that she did not fall over. Losing one’s balance in such a storm made it difficult to get back up. Eventually they reached a clear plateau of the planet where a Delta-7 starfighter stood, snowbanks built up around it. The cylindrical head of an astromech droid swiveled to look at them from atop the ship, a red light flickering at them, and she could just make out the beeps of a greeting.

“R4! The cockpit!” Obi-Wan shouted over the howling of the wind.

The top of the fighter lifted open and he helped her to climb up the side to get inside. Once she was on top, she was able to see the interior of the cockpit. There was only one seat, with no space behind it. She looked to the Jedi, whose beard was crystallized in snow and ice.

“There’s no room!” she shouted to be heard.

“There’s room!” he shouted as he climbed up beside her. A gloved hand swept at the cockpit. “There is just one seat, that’s all!”

This wasn’t the first time she had heard him use semantics to be sassy, but she knew she had to trust him. It was cold, there were Trade Federation droids, and she needed to get as far away from the planet as possible. He climbed in first, dropping into the seat and reaching out his hands to her, indicating that she climb in. Onto his lap. She hesitated as she looked at the small space.

A sound carried on the wind, distinctly droid sounds. 

“ _Roger, roger_..”

They were getting close. She didn’t know if they were detected, and she wasn’t going to stay to find out. She lowered herself into the cockpit, landing awkwardly across his thighs. In order to fit, she had to raise her knees, an arm over his shoulder and behind him so that it wasn’t in the way of the ship’s controls. The canopy of the fighter lowered and sealed closed, immediately blocking out the deafening sounds of the storm. It was impossible to see through the frosted glass.

  
His hands were already moving, hitting buttons and igniting the engines of the vessel.

“How can you see?”

“I seem to recall that space is always up…” he said easily, fingers flipping the toggle switches. He paused to pull the hood from his head, followed by the goggles, freeing his face and head from all coverings. His beard was still full of ice, his nose a little red from the cold. 

“That’s not funny…” she grunted a little as she too tried to get the coverings off her head. The small space made it warm up fast and breathing was difficult. The mask and goggles were tossed behind the pilot chair. That was all the space it had behind it anyway. 

“Trust me, Senator…” the ship vibrated and began to lift off, R4’s beeps and boops coming through the speaker. Obi-Wan reached under her bent knees to retrieve the head piece, his arm brushing beneath her thighs. It was a pity she was too numb from the cold.

He pulled the head piece on and adjusted the microphone at the edge of his mouth. R-4 was still beeping and booping repetitively. “Calm yourself, R4, we will make it out just fine… Just keep us from freezing over and we will have smooth flying…” 

There was a squawk from the droid and Obi-Wan sighed heavily. She didn’t often see annoyance on the Jedi’s face, and it almost made her smile. They were flying but the windows were still so fogged and frosted it was impossible to tell where.

There was a crease between his brows. He was concentrating. She watched, fascinated, sure she could feel that deep thrum of the Force as he tapped into that intuition. When the windows cleared, there was nothing around them but space. A low whistle of relief sounded from the droid and Obi-Wan let out a breath. 

“Flying is bad enough without droids having anxiety over it as well…” Obi-Wan grumbled, his hands moving along the controls again.

“If I didn’t know any better, Master Kenobi, I would think you were the one with anxiety…”

“A Jedi does not allow himself to be anxious.”

That was complete nonsense.

The frost was finally leaving her body, the warmth of the cockpit making her much more comfortable. Except for the snow that had entered with them was quickly melting, and the close confines of their bodies was raising the temperature exponentially. It didn’t help that she had never been this close in proximity to the Jedi who made her heart beat a little faster.

Her cheeks were burning hot, but she retained her regal composure. That was one thing she had taken away from her time as a queen, if nothing else. Dignity always, even when sitting in the lap of a handsome Jedi.

“We will be at Coruscant in an hour, milady…” he spoke softly, calmly. There was no need to speak any louder than that in such a small space. “I think it is safe to say we made it out of there undetected. Another lucky escape.”

“You talk about it as if you had nothing to do with it.”

“Modesty forbids…” But that little smirk told her he was not as modest as he pretended to be.

Space was open to them now, the planet out of sight, and no other vessel visible. As they flew, R4 continued trilling, and a hyperspace transport ring became visible. Obi-Wan flew the ship slowly into the ring, docking into it. The clamps rang through the ship as they gripped on, and in moments they were in hyperdrive, the stars blurring and stretching before them. 

“Thank you,” she said in the silence, looking to him. “Maybe it’s part of your duty as a Jedi, but you didn’t have to go through all that trouble to help me. But I’m grateful you did.”

He kept one arm behind her to hold onto the throttle, her back supported by his forearm, but he relaxed the other arm now that they were cruising in lightspeed.

“You’re welcome,” he said it so easily, as one might when holding a door open for someone.

Being this close to him, she was reminded how handsome he was, how human he was through that sage Jedi exterior. There were lines around his eyes, imperfections in his beard. Her heart was hammering, and when his eyes met hers, she knew that he knew. There was a flash of color in his cheeks.

His eyes tore away to look out the window, even though there was nothing to see. “The senate will have much to discuss regarding the Federation’s presence on Saskiel…”

He trailed off, as if hoping she could pick up the conversation. Ordinarily she would, she had some strong opinions about the Federation, but she didn’t care what was outside of this tiny, cramped cockpit where she was safe in the arms of her friend.

She felt such desire for him at this moment, but she felt a greater fear for their friendship, the way his hair was damp from the melted snow, the longer strands curling on his forehead, how blue his eyes were. She wasn’t feeling very diplomatic at the moment.

“Obi-Wan…” she said softly, her heart hammering in her chest.

“Padme,” he responded neutrally, but the fact that he used her name made her shiver.

She didn’t know what she wanted to say to him, but she felt like she was going to burst with it. So she said nothing, and instead, her hand settled at the back of his neck and she dared to rake her fingers through the strands of hair on the back of his neck.

His breath caught in a way she never heard from a Jedi, and that was when she knew without a doubt that he felt it too. Whatever it was.

He closed his eyes, but not contentedly. He was frowning again, that same concentration as if he was willing her hand away. Obviously if he truly wanted to use the Force to get her off, he would, but she took it as hint enough to at least refrain from petting him.

“Obi-Wan…” She said his name again, this time more urgently with the hope of drawing his attention to her. “I want you.”

His eyes widened ever so slightly, and she saw what she thought was panic flicker in there, for just the briefest moment, before it was quelled again. But she didn’t feel as guilty as she thought she would for saying it, it was out there now, the truth of it made as real to her as to him.

“I’m… aware…” he swallowed hard.

“Should I give up on it? Are Jedi even allowed to desire someone?”

The subject was a touchy one, and to his credit, he remained as composed as ever. “It depends entirely on the context of the, ah, desire…”

She blinked, trying to understand. “Context?”

“Physical desire, as an exercise or recreation does not in itself violate the Jedi Code… It is when feelings become involved that a Jedi will become compromised, unbalanced, distracted from his duty and the Force… Falling in love is against the code. Forming attachments.”

“Is it against the code that we are friends?”

“No,” he smiled warmly. “Friendship is crucial to Jedi. Anything deeper than that is a danger.”

“Then…” she licked her lips, unconsciously looking at his, framed by the perfectly trimmed beard. “Then it wouldn’t violate the Jedi code if two friends happened to desire one another… would it…? No attachment…”

“Oh…” he exhaled a shaky breath. “If there is no attachment… then no I suppose not…”

“You’re not attached to me are you?” There was only one answer that she wanted to hear out of him.

“Not in the least.” He was leaning closer towards her and that was all the cue she needed.

She took his face in her gloved hands and brought her mouth to his, his mustache tickling her face, but his lips alarmingly soft and warm. She felt his arm close around her waist, holding her even closer than she already was, his other arm curling under her knees, secure and comfortable.

Tongues met, the kiss deepening, becoming more hungry, and perhaps more urgent on her part. She wasn’t above a little recklessness, and now that she had reassurance that no codes were being violated, she was bolder than ever. 

The simple sound of him inhaling sharply through his nose excited her in a way she wouldn’t have anticipated, she wanted to know what it felt like to have the Force inside her.

His own kiss was getting more urgent and she could feel herself being consumed.

She reached for the hand that held her legs, guiding it between them, pressing it against the seam of her pants. Truth be told, she didn’t know if he had any knowledge or experience in a woman’s anatomy, whether or not he knew what to touch and how. But after the guidance from her, his hand moved of its own volition, finding that sensitive point by applying pressure to the layers that separated them, and rubbing with pressure. It sent waves of heat through her, and he hummed at the touch, one hand clawing into his beard as they continued to kiss, breathing getting heavier, tongues a little sloppier.

His hand was steady and purposeful and she was beginning to squirm at his touch, getting wet and anxious. She couldn’t tell if he was reacting the same way she was, until she squirmed just so in his lap, her rear rubbing against something hard that hadn’t been there moments ago. It wasn’t his lightsaber.

There was hardly any room in the cockpit of this Delta-7, but she was determined to make due. With some agility, and a little clumsiness, she squeezed and contorted until she had a leg on each side of him, straddling his lap, face to face, her throbbing groin against his, though there were still layers and layers of winter wear between them. His hands were on her hips, her arms around his neck, mouths mashing again and this time he let out a noise that sounded like a very pleased hum, maybe even surprise. She wanted to get more of that sound from him.

She rolled her hips, to feel him against her, and his hands helped add weight, the friction making them grunt together. As much as she was enjoying the friction, she was addicted to the taste of him, the sensation of his lips, his tongue, that tickle of his beard and his breath ghosting against her. While her brain was trying to wrap around the conundrum of how they could get their clothes off in so small a space, she didn’t hear the frantic beeps of R4. 

The ship dropped suddenly out of lightspeed, and the view before them was filled with the glimmering surface of Coruscant.

“ _REEEEEEEE._ ” R4 was screaming at them now to get their attention.

The kiss was abruptly broken and she had to twist her neck to look over her shoulder. As if they suddenly had an audience, Padme gasped and frantically tried to get out of her improper straddle on the Jedi. Her boots thudded into the cockpit glass, her knee almost knocking Obi-Wan in the chin if he hadn’t leaned back. To his credit he wasn’t annoyed with her, but her movement on his rather sensitive lap did get a pained grunt from him. She was balancing across his thighs again, and arm slung around his shoulders to hold herself upright as he took the controls and flew them towards the planet.

Fortunately, R-4 was able to ensure that they didn’t fly into any other ships or freights in the process. They were both breathless now. He seemed to be putting all of his focus into maneuvering the ship into the atmosphere of Coruscant with permission from the sector that they were approaching, she was touching at her hair, which was a mess from the moment that they left Saskiel anyway, but now she felt there was some shame in it. 

“I will take you directly to your home, Senator…” he said professionally, as if nothing had happened.

“Alright…” she breathed with resignation, her muddled brain thinking for a moment that he was going fly her home and carry her to bed.

“Then I must return to the Jedi temple, I cannot linger.”

Her heart sank a little, but she understood.

“Of course… You’ve risked enough by helping me.”

“There cannot be any indication that you were ever on Saskiel,” he elaborated a little more firmly. “I will make my report to Master Yoda and he will understand the need for discretion regarding your presence on the planet…”

“I don’t want Master Yoda to be burdened with keeping political secrets,” she said sternly.

“I cannot lie to members of the council,” he said so smoothly, she had to agree. “You can trust Master Yoda.”

She had heard so many things about the great Jedi Master, she had seen him at the Senate Councils, but she had never spoken to him. It was an intimidating thought, and fear iced through her that Yoda would know about her and Obi-Wan’s shared desire. Jedi’s had those sorts of telepathic tendencies, she heard.

His arm tightened around her, warm and secure. “Everything will be alright, Padme…”

Clearly he had sensed her fear, but the sound of her name on his lips was enough comfort. 

He pulled up his ship beside her apartment, aligned with the landing platform, the cockpit hatch lifting open. The cool air of the city planet immediately washed over them, the sunlight warm as it touched her skin. Only a matter of hours ago they were freezing on Saskiel.

With his help, she stepped out of the ship and onto solid ground. He handed her the discarded gloves and mask that she had tossed into the cockpit, making sure all of her things were accounted for. He stood in the cockpit to give her a bow, that twinkle in his eye, and a smirk, as if nothing had happened between them and he was still her charming friend.

“Goodbye, Senator…” He dropped back into his seat and was adjusting to fly away.

This was all confusing. Was he just going to leave her now, and not see her for another two years? Should she ask to see him again? No, she had no right. She had places to be, he had his own duty as a Jedi. She was already responsible in him acting improperly. Anything further and he could be removed from the Jedi Order.

“Master Kenobi,” she gave a cordial nod, speaking as a senator, since he called her such. She was grateful for it, he grounded her again.

Before she knew it he was flying off in his Delta-7.


	3. Chapter 3

That night, just after the sun had set over Coruscant, Padme was in her bedroom sitting on the edge of her bed, the stark décor bleak with her mood. She never did anything to add color or flair, this was her residence as a senator. The only place that ever truly felt like home to her was her parent’s home, her childhood home, in Theed. Everything else was temporary, or by necessity.

R2-D2 was sitting quietly in the corner of the room, occasional clicks sounding from within his canister body, but the red light on his dome was blinking as he rested. Corde was sitting behind her, braiding her hair contentedly. Her handmaiden was so relieved to see her senator safe and sound that she almost cried, but it was followed quickly by silent reproach of Padme. The senator’s safety was her responsibility, it was why Corde often served as her decoy when a situation was deemed too dangerous. Corde was very pleased that there was a Jedi there to see the senator safely home.

“I remember Obi-Wan Kenobi from all those years ago, when we fled Naboo…” Corde said suddenly, her fingers thoughtfully threading through Padme’s hair. “The girls were so smitten with him,” she chuckled.

Padme was smiling at the memory. They were all girls at the time, the Queen and her handmaidens, and they hardly knew what to do with themselves in the presence of a strong Jedi Padawan.

“Has he changed much?” asked Corde. “I haven’t seen him since…”

“He has a beard now,” Padme was still smiling. She couldn’t help it, especially after feeling it with her hands, her chin, nose, lips, she quite liked it.

“That’s unfortunate…” Corde said quietly.

Her friend’s disapproval of facial hair made Padme laugh, but she said nothing more about it. Her heart was fluttering to think about him. And she realized that she accepted the reality that she may not see him again and if she did it would be in a purely political, professional setting. They would continue to be friends, to respect one another, and to pretend that they didn’t know what each other tasted like.

No rules were broken. No one was attached. Though she did wish she could have experienced a little more than just his hand outside of her clothes. Or what the Force felt like from the inside.

“There,” Corde’s voice drew her from her dreaming.

Now that Padme’s hair was braided intricately over her shoulder, she was ready for bed at last. “Thank you, Corde.”

“Do you need anything else before I retire, milady?” Corde was on her feet, hands together attentively.

“No thank you… I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yes, milady… Good night.”

“Good night.”

Her handmaiden made a swift, but quiet exit from the room. Padme sat there on the bed long after she was left alone, her eyes looking distantly out the window at the mesmerizing lights of the city, the endless ships and speeders along the stationary buildings. There was such a yearning in her that was screaming in spite of how content she was.

“R2-D2…” she said, still staring out the window.

Artoo whirred awake, his head swiveling and a low whistles sounding, ending in a higher beep.

“I’m sorry I woke you…”

Artoo bleeped lightly.

“Will you go to the Jedi temple to find Obi-Wan…?”

Of course he could, but she felt the need to ask politely. He bleeped compliantly, his body tilting back as his front wheel went forward, rolling him over to her side. He stopped in front of her, tipping upright against, his black lens on her patiently.

He was ready to record a message, as he often did for her. Problem was, she didn’t know what she wanted to say. She didn’t know what was safe to say aloud, let alone recorded in audio or hologram.

Artoo swiveled his head impatiently.

“No message…” she finally decided. “Just find him.”

She hoped Obi-Wan would be obligated by his chivalry to return her droid to her. She hoped he would know that she sent him on purpose.

Artoo squelched a little in confusion but ultimately agreed to carry out the strange command. He tipped, rolled, and beeped and booped his way towards the door, his head swiveling about the room.

She couldn’t stop moving around. It was foolish to send R2-D2 into the Jedi temple without any message. Maybe there was a risk to Obi-Wan, but what risk? R2-D2 didn’t have anything incriminating to say. It seemed entirely likely that Artoo would return to her, alone, perhaps with a return message or none at all. That would have been fair. Obi-Wan was right to walk away and act as though what happened between them was imagined.

But the madness that took over her to send the message in the first place was still there. Her very skin was crawling, an ache deep within her with every thought on Obi-Wan Kenobi. It was physical attraction, completely superficial longing for a handsome and aloof warrior. It wasn’t exactly unusual for Jedi to be lusted after for their power, their serenity, and their complete unavailability. People have a way of wanting what they can’t have. And yet, aside from the shallow attraction, she could not discredit the way that he made her smile, how his genuine compassion and kindness, his friendship towards her had been so invaluable to her. His presence always assured her that things would be alright.

No, she didn’t have feelings for him. She told herself this was all carnal, no attachments.

* * *

As soon as he finished his report to Master Yoda about his assistance to the refugees on Saskiel, and how the Regent Yook Gibodehan was working with the Trade Federation, he then informed him of the dubiously illegal assistance from Senator Padme Amidala in her own clandestine mission. Master Yoda understood the seriousness of this and assured Obi-Wan that he would address it as necessary.

“Reveal the Senator’s involvement, I will not,” he said. “On Coruscant all this time, I believe Senator Amidala has been.”

The master Jedi was centuries old, one could only wonder what secrets he kept in him.

“Training hard, your padawan has been,” Yoda said with a hint of a proud smile.

“He can learn from no better teacher than yourself, Master Yoda…” Obi-Wan said modestly as he crouched on one knee before the chair where Yoda sat meditatively. He was back in his Jedi robes, the winter gear discarded.

“Hm. Learn much from you, young Skywalker can, Master Kenobi. You have taught him well, the Jedi teachings. Natural compassion, he has. Natural control, he does not. You do.”

Control was not quite the word that Obi-Wan would have chosen for himself when in that tiny cockpit with the lovely Padme.

“I confess that control does not come as easily to me as Anakin perhaps thinks…”

“Show him. Learn, he will. Not mutually exclusive are difficulty and success.” Yoda then slowly uncurled his legs from beneath him, gracefully crawling off the seat and onto the floor, pulling his walking stick into his hand with the Force. He leaned on it with a soft grunt. “Admire you, he does, Master Kenobi… Guidance in his own feelings, he will need.”

Yoda then walked slowly out of the room and Obi-Wan rose to his feet. From the day that Master Qui-Gon had brought the boy to the Jedi council, they were persistent about Anakin’s control on his feelings. They were afraid of a tendency to lose balance with himself, and it was no secret. No one had seen the progress of the boy more than Obi-Wan, though. The pain of the struggle to control the raw emotions inside.

He found his young padawan in one of the training facilities where Obi-Wan watched from the doorway. Anakin seemed far too focused to notice his own master, as he was surrounded by twenty training remotes, set to non-lethal blasters. They were firing orange beams at him relentlessly and the boy jumped, spun, rolled, dodged, and deflected with his blue lightsaber with such speed that Obi-Wan inwardly applauded.

Anakin was 17 years old now and was already taller than Obi-Wan. Thin, strongly built, smarter than ever (he was, after all, something of a boy genius) and becoming a great warrior. Obi-Wan had his doubts when Qui-Gon declared the boy was the Chosen One. Young Kenobi couldn’t imagine a sand covered desert whelp to be anything special enough to bring balance to the Force. But time and time again Anakin proved himself, in a million tiny ways, and Obi-Wan was converted to his former master’s ideology. Even if he had not subscribed to it at the moment that he promised to train Anakin.

Anakin was remarkable, and Obi-Wan felt a gleam of mischievousness with his need to teach.

“Too slow….” He called out.

Anakin’s head whipped around towards the voice and the remotes saw their opportunity. They fired all at once, and Anakin was pelted from all sides by the orange blasts. He cried out in pain, dropping to a knee, and the remotes withdrew into a line formation, going into a stationary mode.

Anakin’s clothes were smoking where they were hit, the wounds entirely superficial, even if they did smart. Obi-Wan approached, arms folding. Anakin turned off his lightsaber and gripped at his shoulder where one of the blasters had hit at too close a range.

“You must always be mindful of your surroundings, Anakin…” Obi-Wan said for the thousandth time this year.

Anakin huffed, his chin dipping, his brows furrowed as he rose to his feet. “Yeah, I know, Master…”

“Isn’t it a little late to be combat training?”

Anakin was poking his finger into the hole in his tunic. “I have been practicing my mediations all day with Master Yoda. I needed a break.” When he looked to Obi-Wan, Anakin had that little smirk that one might call devilish.

“So you found meditating to be exhausting and looked to unwind by fighting something…” Obi-Wan stated plainly.

“It’s nothing like that…” Anakin rolled his eyes.

“That is precisely what it sounds like. You must learn to focus your frustrations, Anakin. Not in a fight, but within. There may come a time when you will need to control those feelings and there will be nothing to take it out on.”

“Yes, Master…”

“Now… Have I missed anything?” Obi-Wan put on a lighter tone now.

“Meditating,” Anakin said pointedly, thought for a moment. “Meditating.” He put a finger to his chin, his brow furrowed. “Let’s see, what else…”

“More meditating?” Obi-Wan flatly finished the joke for him.

Anakin almost smiled, but the frustration was still there. “When will I be allowed to go on a mission with you again?”

“When you prove that there won’t be any repeats of what happened the last time. You are still far too reckless.”

“I knew where the mines were, I wasn’t going to step on any of them…”

“That is beside the point—”

“Master Kenobi!” A tiny voice rang out into the chamber and they both turned to see a youngling stomping towards them, his sleeves flapping in the process. “Master Kenobi, there is an astromech droid sent here for you!”

Obi-Wan and Anakin exchanged curious glances, and in moments R2-D2 came rolling in quite casually, his head swiveling curiously along the walls of the Jedi temple. He let out a low _wooooooooo_ , impressed with the architecture. There did not seem to be any particular urgency for the droid, but that did not make his appearance any less curious.

“Artoo!” The cloud that was over Anakin faded and he approached the droid, lowering to a knee.

The droid’s domed head snapped towards Anakin and a high beep rang out. He came to a clicking halt in front of the young Jedi, a few whirs and boops.

Anakin chuckled, setting a hand on top of the dome. “It’s been awhile.”

“R2-D2, what brings you here?” Obi-Wan stood nearby. He didn’t sense anything ominous about the droid’s presence, but he knew it had to do with Padme and he felt a twinge of fear that she was once again being reckless.

The little droid turned his single lens to Obi-Wan. He beeped and booped.

“I don’t understand…” Anakin rose to his feet and looked to Obi-Wan. “No message? Does it have to do with Padme? Artoo is still her droid, isn’t he?”

“Yes. Did the senator send you?” Obi-Wan asked neutrally, careful not to betray any feeling beyond curiosity or caution.

Artoo made some vague beeps, turning his head slowly away.

“He seems to be malfunctioning,” Obi-Wan concluded.

“We can bring him to Padme!” Anakin said suddenly, quickly checking himself. “I mean, the Senator will be missing her property… won’t she?”

Obi-Wan sensed the spike of emotions the boy felt to see her again. He knew well that Anakin had been infatuated with her since he was a boy. After all, when he was taken from his mother, she was the kindest soul around him. Obi-Wan could not tell him about meeting Padme on Saskiel, as it was a political secret now. But even more so, if the boy knew that he had once again missed out on seeing her again over the years, it would not do any favors to his frustrations. Never mind what she and Obi-Wan had committed in that cockpit.

“Certainly,” Obi-Wan had to agree, but with a perfect air of disinterest. “And her property will be returned to her.”

Anakin smiled. “Let’s go!”

Obi-Wan placed a heavy hand on Anakin’s shoulder, a single look telling him no.

Anakin’s features hardened, his jaw ticking. “You want me to stay.”

“Two Jedi to deliver a little droid seems like a bit much, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Then just let me go. By myself.” Anakin was almost pleading.

“Not when you are this worked up. I want you to meditate.”

Anakin let out a groan. “I am tired of meditating—”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan sharpened his tone. “You will do as I tell you.”

The boy straightened and hesitantly nodded. “Yes, Master.”

“Good. Then I will see you in the morning.”

“Good night, Master.” The words were forced through his tight throat, and the boy stomped away, his deactivated lightsaber tightly gripped in his hand. “Bye, Artoo...”

The droid followed his steps with the swiveling of his head before snapping his attention back to Obi-Wan.

“Come on, then. Let’s get you back where you belong.”


	4. Chapter 4

In the elevator that ascended to her apartment, Obi-Wan stood beside R2-D2 with his hood low over his face. His heart occasionally skipped a beat every time his mind turned to Padme. She continually popped in there, and he continually had to use his best exercises to calm himself, to clear his mind. He was only here to return a droid. Or was he? There was deep implication here, and he could not ignore the throbbing in his body, nor could he control it. He realized he didn’t want to.

When he arrived, Artoo rolled ahead of him, opening the door on their arrival and leading the way inside, his head swiveling back with a beckoning _boop_ , to invite Obi-Wan inside. The place was dark, save for a few dim lights along the floor, a fountain trickling somewhere, the lights of the city the brightest thing coming through the vast windows.

Obi-Wan entered cautiously and came to a stop when he saw her. She was at the window, looking out, her hands gripping the thick braid that was draped over her shoulder. Her body was covered thinly by a sapphire negligee, the hem weighed down by a seam of gold, threads of silver hanging from her shoulders, the tips just barely brushing the curve of her rear. There was a slit along the side of the skirt that reached as high as her hips, and when she moved, he suspected that she had nothing on beneath. 

“Did you lose something, Senator?”

She didn’t look surprised to see that he came. But the way that her long lashes fluttered when she looked at him made it clear that she had been thinking of him as much as he had been thinking of her and his knees were weak.

“I think I’ve lost my mind,” she answered without a second thought. 

He crossed the space between them slowly, pushing back the hood from his head. “Did you really send a droid to the Jedi Temple?” He was trying to scold her, but his voice was betraying him in its softness.

“I won’t be angry if you leave, Obi-Wan,” she said quietly, searching his eyes. “I can thank you for bringing back Artoo and leave it at that. I’m not expecting anything else…”

It was very diplomatic of her to offer him an avenue out of this, to not trap him, and yet open the door so invitingly. She demanded nothing of him, yet he never felt so subjugated. It was easy to justify that this was purely physical attraction, that neither of them had any intention of letting emotions get in the way. There was a fever in the blood that needed to be satisfied, nothing more.

“Your message was received, milady…” He used a coy tone, to counter the tension in her own. In one demonstrative move, he threw off the heavy brown cloak from his shoulders. He deliberately let it fall on top of R2, draping over and covering the droid’s prying eye from anything. Artoo squelched in annoyance and rolled into a wall. 

Obi-Wan was close enough that she had to lift her chin to meet his gaze. It was easy to forget how small she truly was, her presence so powerful. He intended to gently take her face in his hands, to kiss her with the softness of a summer breeze on Naboo and take her into his arms like a wilted flower. But instead of physical poetry, she seized his face, pulling him down enough for mouths to meet, her arms then snaking around his neck and confining him in a way that filled his head with white noise.

He did indeed gather her up into his arms, but she wrapped her legs around his waist and clung to him, and he had little choice but to support her with his hands beneath her rear, nothing separating the flesh of his hands from the flesh of her behind. Her skin was soft, warm, and he was aching.

Perhaps it was the Force at work, but in the frenzy of kissing her and carrying her at the same time, he found his way into her bedroom without walking into any furniture or walls. He was at least civilized enough to take her to a bed, as a gentleman ought to. She unwrapped herself and stepped away from him, never breaking eye contact as she merely shimmied her shoulders and that negligee went cascading downward along her curves, pooling onto the floor so fluidly it was akin to magic.

Obi-Wan, meanwhile, had more of a task getting disrobed. His belt, heavy with the weight of a lightsaber, then his outer tunic, then the inner tunic, then the boots, then the pants, one layer after another. The moment he peeled away the very last layer, she was pulling him onto the bed, his weight on top of her to kiss him again and he indulged in the taste of her lips, to her throat, to the swell of her breasts which he had tried not to think about.

She moaned in response to his kisses, her legs hooking around him. She was impatient, and so was he. She was writhing beneath him, already wet with desire, and he would not draw it out lest it became something comparable to romance. He guided himself to her, and with one roll of his hips, pushed slowly inside.

When he entered her, he could not keep in the surprised groan that bellowed out with the sheer pleasure, the likes of which he never fathomed, and she too inhaled with a deep gasp. He moved slowly, listening to her body. Though she didn’t speak, she communicated with her hands, gripping him tightly at his hips and forcing him in deeper. Her assertiveness caught him by surprise, but he would not dare dispute her now. He thrust in again, one hand hiking her leg tighter around him. And again. And again.  
With every limb she was holding onto him for dear life, soft moans and gasps escaping every time he pumped inside of her, skin beginning to gleam with exertion, her teeth occasionally lightly grazing his shoulder, her nails raking his back.

He was hers to command, and she didn’t need to utter a word.

Every breath of hers became shorter, more desperate, and he could feel in her energy that everything was ready to peak, and indeed for him as well, he could feel the pressure in his lower back, coiling deep inside and robbing him of the last of his wits. He thrusted faster, harder, drowning to reach that release.

She reached it first, he knew, when she cried out in his ear, her head pushing back, her heels digging harder into him. It wasn’t long before he too found himself falling over the edge, everything bursting within him in a bright light, his body locking as he buried deep within her, groaning against her throat as his body rattled with the waves of pleasure.  
And still she held onto him, their damp flesh sticking together, the same fingers that had raked his back now stroking his hair. They were both breathless and trying to regain oxygen, his head swimming and every thought in chaos.

Carefully he withdrew from her and dropped heavily onto the bed beside her, still panting. She was already sidling up to him, her smooth leg coiling with his, her breasts against him as she leaned over him and kissed him lazily.

When the kiss broke, there was silence. Then they both laughed. The tension that had been between them had finally been eased and he felt dizzy with the relief. And the sound of her own giddy laughter only made him more so.

“Well done, Master Jedi…” she teased. “They trained you well.”

He looked askance to her dubiously. “I can assure you, that is not something they train you for at the academy…”

She chewed her lip as she looked at him, her face alight with rebelliousness. He lightly toyed with a strand of hair that hung at her temple, letting his knuckle run along her cheek. The dim light of the city’s glow that came through the window outlined the dimensions of her face, and he never took the time before now to realize just how lovely she was. She leaned into his touch, kissing said knuckle, her hand resting on his chest, fingers lightly brushing over the hair. Their eyes met, just for a moment, and the thought flashed into his mind that he would die for her. He would kill for her.

Just that flash was enough to hurl him back into reality.

_No attachments._

As gently as he could he eased her off and began to crawl out of the bed. He began to dress. She didn’t ask any questions or make any remarks. She simply pulled the silken sheets around her and watched.

“My only fear,” she said suddenly, bringing him to pause halfway into his tabard. “My only fear is that we will not be friends anymore…”

It was understandable, and he had felt it too. Rather than express it, he leaned over to take her hand and place his lips on the top of it.

“Nothing will compromise our friendship, Padme…” he said sternly, but gently. “You have my word. Nothing will change how highly I regard you.”

She managed a small smile. “As long as you aren’t attached to me…” she slipped her hand away and climbed out of bed, draped in the sheets, the entirety of the bed itself between them as if to serve as a barrier. “It would be very unbecoming of a Jedi to ever fall in love.”

“And forbidden,” he added more gravely.

“Your duty to the Jedi Order is just as important to me as my own political position…” She spoke kindly, and wisely. Yet he felt the smallest degree of pain in his heart for it.

“Goodnight, Master Kenobi. I hope it will not be another two years before we see each other again.”

He was finally fastening his belt around his waist, the lightsaber heavy with its reminder of his true purpose.

“Goodnight, Senator Amidala.”

He bowed from the waist, watching from beneath his brows as she walked through the door, the hiss of a shower turning on following. Now that she was no longer looking at him, now that he was alone, he allowed himself to let out a long exhale, a hand swiping down his face and pulling at his beard.

He felt a little used, but not in a bad way. This was a utilitarian tryst, and whatever whisperings of feelings he had felt, he was confident he could meditate away, as he had done in the past. It was time to return to the temple and meditate. A lot. And he too would need a long shower to rid himself of the intoxicating smell of her.


	5. Chapter 5

It was indeed another two years before they met again.

Conflict within the Galactic Republic continued to grow, Separatists growing in numbers, and now a vote was to be made on the passing of a Republican Army. The debate was beyond heated, it was dangerous and polarized to the point of distrust everywhere.

Padme was tossed between Naboo and Coruscant in endless debates and negotiations, while Obi-Wan was pulled to every corner of the galaxy on missions to maintain or bring about peace between warring factions, more often than not with his padawan, Anakin, at his side. Through all of this, Obi-Wan and Padme’s paths never crossed. They were only able to receive whisperings here and there of what was happening with the other. As ever, their duties came first, and neither of them ever reached out to one another. Neither of them had the freedom or the foolishness.

In his meditations, Obi-Wan often wondered if it was a mistake to spend that night with her. It returned to his thoughts more often than he liked, and yet it was a wonderful memory. If he could not banish it from his mind, he could at least think on it with a positive spin. What else was it other than two dear friends letting off steam? Neither of them formed any attachments, no codes broken. Even if he felt an ache in his heart to think of how many parsecs separated them, or so few. He could see her apartment from the Jedi temple, and there were times he knew she was on the planet. All he would have to do was jump in a speeder and fly to her balcony… But no. Somehow, he never lost balance within himself. It took all that he had to maintain the composure that he tried to impart into his young padawan. What kind of a master would he be if he did not lead by example?

That inner balance was put to the ultimate test when he returned to Coruscant from a border dispute mission in Ansion. No sooner had he and Anakin stepped onto the landing pad were they summoned to the Jedi Council. Only Master Yoda and Master Windu were present. This did not seem to require the entire council.

“First of all,” Mace Windu said calmly, a leg crossed over the other, his fingers steepled. “Welcome back, Master Kenobi and Young Skywalker… Hours ago, there was an assassination attempt made on Senator Padme Amidala of Naboo. We have no doubt that it is directly related to her arrival for the vote on the Military Creation Act. Captain Typho, who is in charge of her security, had reached out to us on this matter. He explained to us that the Senator has been the target of many threats, few of which ever manifested beyond words. This time it was a bomb which cost the life of her decoy…”

Obi-Wan listened, betrayed no reaction, but hearing Padme’s name in the same breath as ‘assassination’ did make his heart stop for a moment. He thought he detected a glance from Master Yoda, but the smaller master instantly turned his gaze to Anakin. Obi-Wan felt it too. The boy, now almost 20 years of age, was vibrating with tension.  
“Her would-be assassin is still out there,” said Master Windu. “Master Kenobi and Skywalker, you will go to Senator Amidala’s residence and provide security for her until she is able to attend the senate vote.”

Anakin’s excitement practically filled the room, a light appearing on his face that Obi-Wan hadn’t seen in some time. His apprentice’s crush, and how long it had lasted, was comical to say the least.

“We get to see her? We will be there with her as her bodyguards?”

It was amazing to think this now towering warrior was still such a boy. Obi-Wan contained a smile. “Yes, Anakin, I believe that is what was said a moment ago…”  
Mace Windu did not look amused, and neither did Yoda. They never had found amusement in Anakin’s behavior, but Obi-Wan knew the boy well enough to know that to judge him by his wayward emotions was not a fair assessment of his abilities.

“Many feelings, this incident provokes,” Yoda finally spoke, slowly. “Very personal, this mission is for you. Beware of these feelings, you must. Attachments, you must not have.”  
Yoda’s attention was on Anakin, but as he concluded his head canted and he looked to Obi-Wan. It was as if the old Jedi Master was seeing straight through him.

“You will go to her now, she is expecting you,” Master Windu said as he rose to his feet. “Let us hope that the assassin will not have the audacity to make any further attempts. May the Force be with you.”

“And with you, Masters….” said Obi-Wan as he and Anakin bowed in unison.

* * *

  
As per the recommendation of Chancellor Palpatine, the Jedi Council were assigning two of their own to serve as protection—Master Obi-Wan Kenobi and his padawan. The moment Typho said Obi-Wan’s name, Padme felt the air leave her lungs and she couldn’t help smiling at the prospect of seeing him. To have him here now, she felt that perhaps things would be alright. She was suddenly less jumpy with every sound or movement around her.

She waited as patiently as she could with Typho and Dorme, the three of them sullen and quiet as they thought about the loss of Corde. There was now such a hole without her there, and Padme could not shake the guilt of having a decoy in the first place. She did not believe that anyone should die in her stead, but it was the Queen’s orders to keep the senator safe. Jar Jar Binks, who had arrived at Coruscant some days earlier than them in preparation for the vote, also came to her apartment and expressed his joy in seeing her alive in the only way that a Gungan could. But Jar Jar was far from tactful in his ability to hide his own concerns about assassination attempts, blubbering a bit about his fears of assassins hiding behind curtains or under beds.

He finally stopped talking when there was a chime at the door. They had been receiving so many visitors that day after the incident that Padme allowed Jar Jar to see who it was before she left her place of solace on the balcony. The noise of the city helped quiet her mind.

“Senator Padme!” Jar Jar called out, drawing her attention. “Deesa palos here! Lookie lookie, Senator! Deesa Jedi arriven!”

She fought the urge to run, the doorway of the balcony blocking her view of the visitors. But as she turned the corner and saw the familiar sight of robes, her gaze was immediately on Obi-Wan. His hair was much longer, his beard just a little fuller, but looking as handsome as ever and she could not help the bright smile that appeared to see him, her heart beating a thousand times a minute.

But she tightened the smile to restrain it, to not seem overly pleased. Especially when he was the only one to bow to her, the way she told him not to after she was no longer queen. He was being cheeky.

“It’s a great pleasure to see you again, my lady…” he said so nonchalantly, extending a hand to her.

They shook hands like old diplomats, so formal and matter of fact that she wanted to laugh.

“It has been far too long, Master Kenobi,” she still grinned as she continued the charade of formality, but her voice felt so strained to keep it as neutral as his.

It was painfully true to her, though, that two years was too long. For a moment she was lost in his gaze, realizing she nearly forgot how blue his eyes were, but how their color could change when the light hit them just right, and he held her there within his gaze. There was another Jedi there, though, lurking behind quietly and she looked to him over Obi-Wan’s shoulder. It took only seconds to realize who this young man was that was staring at her so shyly.

“Ani?” she said with disbelief. “My goodness, you’ve grown!”

He sulked forward with a smile and Obi-Wan stepped back, looking rather proud. Anakin looked straight into her in a way that arrested her attention, but made her blood run suddenly cold.

“So have you…” he said. “Grown more beautiful, I mean…”

That wasn’t what Jedi were supposed to say. She stared.

“Well… F-for a senator, I mean…” he stammered.

It was then that she realized he was just a nervous boy, and she managed a light chuckle to ease the awkwardness. This was the same youth who had naively called her an angel all those years ago, sweet and honest to a fault.

“Ani, you will always be that little boy I knew on Tatooine…”

It was wonderful to see Anakin again after so long, but she had trouble fighting the urge to look towards Obi-Wan, to speak with him and ask him about everything he has done in these past years. Instead, she regained her political persona and ended this casual conversation to return to the immediate crisis, and she turned for the couch, expecting the others to join.

What followed as they sat down to discuss the situation was strange. Anakin was obtusely disobedient of Obi-Wan in a way that even seemed to surprise the Jedi master. The awkwardness was felt by all who witnessed it, she could see the agitation in Obi-Wan. Was Anakin showing off in front of her?

Worst of all, she wanted to open an investigation into whoever it was that wanted her dead, to weed out the opposition that would take such measures, and Obi-Wan disagreed. She couldn’t help the sting of hurt when he talked of not “exceeding their mandate” as given to them by the council. He was there to follow orders. It wasn’t about her or the bigger picture of the vote that could change history.

Anakin argued to investigate. In that moment it as though he was the only one who felt as strongly as she did about answers.

It would seem the friendship she had with Obi-Wan really had changed, and maybe that was why she hadn’t seen him in so long. Perhaps he chose to stay away.

“Perhaps with merely your presence the mystery surrounding this threat will be revealed…” she spoke with her diplomatic cadence, directly to Obi-Wan. Distant. Vague. If he wanted to keep this professional, then she was more than able to. And yet, she couldn’t help looking to Anakin, whose head was bowed with insincere submission to his master.

It was hard to breathe with so many people in the room and Obi-Wan so close yet so far. She rose to her feet

“Now if you’ll excuse me… I will retire…”

Dorme in anticipation of helping her prepare for bed, took the lead to her bedroom, and Padme felt that she could not walk fast enough in her cumbersome skirts to get away from the Jedi. Obi-Wan felt so cold to her and Anakin’s eyes burned a little too hotly into her. She didn’t know what to do with these feelings, but she did know that on top of being the target of an assassin, she was further confused. That old need for Obi-Wan wasn’t as faded away by time as she had given herself credit for.

* * *

The next morning, Obi-Wan and Anakin were standing on the balcony of Padme’s apartment, the sun beginning to rise over the city, its beams piercing through the tall structures from its low point on the horizon. To look at them, one would think they had been there all through a peaceful night.

Except the window to her bedroom was blown out, and some maintenance droids were in the process of cleaning out the remaining pieces of glass. Obi-Wan quietly inspecting a toxic saberdart in his hand, and Anakin pacing slowly with restraint. Obi-Wan could feel the frustration vibrating from the boy.  
The Master Jedi was utilizing every skill he knew to appear so calm. Unlike his apprentice, he was able to control his feelings and how he expressed them. Well. That was perhaps more true yesterday before they had arrived here.

The way Padme had looked at Anakin—now much taller and arguably more handsome—irritated Obi-Wan. He made the excuse to himself at first that he was annoyed with his padawan’s behavior, but the more he thought about it, the more that Anakin talked about her with such single-mindedness, Obi-Wan realized it was making him irrationally jealous. Why should he be jealous? He and Padme had no attachments. Anakin was sworn to the Jedi Order. There was no danger there. Everyone knew their place.

Besides, jealousy denoted ownership. The adage that Master Yoda always used was that ‘Jealousy is the shadow if greed.’ And Obi-Wan knew that Padme belonged to no one, nor did he wish to have her. It was her independence that he had always admired.

The emotions he felt in that small interaction were bad enough in themselves. But when the attempt was made on Padme’s life as she slept, Obi-Wan had forgotten himself for a moment.

Just long enough to jump out a window.

That was the very thing he always told Anakin _not_ to do.

So Obi-Wan centered himself, calmed his thoughts and focused on their task at hand.

“The council needs to open an investigation…” Anakin said quietly through his teeth. “We shouldn’t have let him get away.”

“Relax. He had the lead on us and we have all the clues we need. And unless you keep a rocket on your back, we were already disadvantaged in catching up to that bounty hunter. If I’m not mistaken, he looked Mandalorian.” He was, of course, being modest. He had spent enough time in Mandalore as a youth to know damn well what their armor looked like.

“I could have caught him.” Anakin declared.

“Know your limits, young one. Accept your defeats and learn from them.”

Anakin took in a sharp breath and closed his eyes, as he often did when plunging into meditation to calm his raging mind. Obi-Wan was proud to see him do it without needing to be told to.

Padme stepped out onto the balcony with them, wrapped tightly in a thick robe that she clutched at her neck, the curls of her hair dancing with the breeze of the city’s morning.

She looked exhausted, clearly she didn’t sleep since last night. Dorme was on one side of her, R2-D2 on the other.

“Good morning, my lady,” Obi-Wan greeted politely.

“We will get to the bottom of this, Padme, I promise,” Anakin declared.

Her brow was furrowed and she looked to Obi-Wan directly. He felt a twinge, guilt for failing her.

“Have you heard from the council yet?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said. “The moment Captain Typho arrives to watch you, we shall report to the council for our next orders.”

“Will they be expanding your mandate?”

Her tone was a little short, using his own words back at him.

“Perhaps,” he said.

“They cannot take it lightly any longer, Senator,” Anakin’s attempt to sound professional was almost passable, but Obi-Wan knew him too well. And the boy’s gaze was far too fixated on Padme.

He felt an impulse to tell Anakin to stop talking and leave her alone, but that reaction was not coming from a rational place.

“We should have opened an investigation yesterday,” she said. “Rather than this sitting and waiting. Someone wants to stop me from voting and are not afraid to resort to violence.”

“We may have seen more if the cameras were not covered in your room,” Obi-Wan pointed out. “And using yourself as bait is hardly the most effective way to catch a killer who obviously prefers to attack from afar.”

“I had Artoo watching me.”

She was arguing, being stubborn in a way that was all too familiar. He didn’t find it very endearing this time and he folded his arms, forcing calm. “And a fine watch guard a _droid_ turned out to be.”

“If circumstance has proven anything, he is obviously as capable as any _Jedi_. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must get ready for the day.”

She made certain she had the last word and turned, walking away with Dorme. Artoo stayed there, though, finally letting out a small chirp.

“Don’t take it personal, Artoo…” said Anakin. “Master Kenobi doesn’t have anything against droids.”

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure he entirely agreed with that, but to spare Artoo’s feelings (did droids have feelings?) he made no response. Padme was angry with him, it was flaring off of her in great bursts and he had the distinct feeling that it wasn’t all because of the assassination attempt. Her life had been in danger before and she never took her anger out on someone else.

“She is right, Master,” said Anakin.

“Don’t you start agreeing with her,” Obi-Wan gently warned.

At last, Captain Typho arrived and the Jedi were relieved of duty to report to the council. They took a speeder together back to the Jedi Temple to meet with Master Yoda and Master Windu, who set out the next step of their assignment in light of the new details of a bounty hunter being sent after Padme. Obi-Wan was specifically ordered to open an investigation to discover the identity of the bounty hunter and whoever it was who hired him. While he was glad to be in charge of such an important task, it raised the question of who would protect Padme. 

That assignment was given to Anakin, and Obi-Wan could not keep his brow from furrowing. He could feel the elation in his young Padawan. Surely it was from having his first assignment on his own, but there was no denying how often he had spoke about Padme in just the past two days. Anakin was told to entreat Chancellor Palpatine in order to convince Padme to go into hiding, and the involvement of yet another politician did not make it easier for Obi-Wan to calm his mind. A myriad of emotions were bubbling beneath the surface, and he knew he was failing in burying them when Master Yoda’s gaze pierced into him.

Obi-Wan was given control in finding answers, in seeking out whoever dared to endanger Padme. This sense of righteousness concerned him, but not as much as the taste of jealousy he felt that Anakin would be spending time alone with her. There would always be that part of Obi-Wan that longed to have her alone again, the world forgotten around them.

It was that part of him that told him the separation was absolutely required. It would have been far too dangerous for him to be her bodyguard. There _were_ attachments there, but he feared it was one sided. He wondered too if Master Yoda had sensed it in him and made the choice to keep him away from her. He was grateful that the Jedi master did not place him within range of temptation. However, Anakin was hardly much better. The boy was transparent in his attraction to the senator. This was going to be a trial for them all. 

Obi-Wan separated from Anakin temporarily with plans to rendezvous at the platform with a transport freight for Naboo. His padawan went to meet with Chancellor Palpatine. Obi-Wan often had misgivings about Anakin’s friendship with the Chancellor. It made him uneasy, and he was self-secure enough to know that it was not jealousy of his apprentice having another mentor. Indeed, Jedi had many masters, Obi-Wan having learned from Yoda or Made Windu as much as he had learned from his dear master Qui-Gon. No, what bothered him was the Chancellor’s interest in the boy, which was surely geared towards some political gain.

And yet, at this moment in time, he intended to take advantage of his padawan’s mission taking him elsewhere. It gave Obi-Wan a short window in time to steal away. To go to her.

Maybe it was fear that told him to stay away, but after the events of the previous day, there was too much to be said. Not long after they had left the Jedi council with their assignment, Obi-Wan was in a civilian speeder, pulling up to the very window that he had jumped out of the night before. Droids were buzzing around it, taking measurements, beeping at each other and warbling their repair plans together.

Obi-Wan leapt out of the speeder and through the open window. He knew no one was in her room, he could sense and hear the voices on the other side of the surprisingly thin wall. It was so thin, every word could be heard from the lobby. That meant Padme must have easily heard him last night when he was telling Anakin how untrustworthy politicians were, including her. Wonderful. No wonder she was cross with him.

From what he could glean, Padme was making a call to summon Representative Jar Jar Binks. It only made sense that her fellow representative of Naboo be involved, but Obi-Wan still had his reservations of the Gungan’s competency. Like everything in the Gungan’s life, things happened to him by chance. Including his political position. This was why the Jedi didn’t trust politicians. 

Padme ended her call and was heading for the bedroom, he could hear her steps in the corridor. But she wasn’t alone when she walked into the room, Dorme was walking close beside her.

“What will you do now, milady?” Dorme spoke softly, but urgently.

“I don’t know,” Padme said sharply. He could feel the anger steaming from her. “Everyone else seems to be making the decisions for me, and I have little say in the matter…”

He had stepped into her wardrobe mere seconds before they entered, his back pressed against the wall of soft dresses and cloaks that she possessed. This entire space smelled of Padme, in a way that made him think back to lying naked with her, tasting her. He closed his eyes to banish the memories and the thoughts. To focus on the here and now. 

Hiding in the closet, he wished Dorme would leave the room. But wishing something into reality was not an ability that Jedi possessed, so he was patient and hoping the handmaiden wouldn’t go into the closet. The woman did not seem to be simple-minded, he did not expect any mind tricks to work on her. To say nothing of the fact that he respected the personal attendant of Padme Amidala too much to want to toy with her mind.

They talked, he waited.

“I’ll make us some tea,” Dorme finally said, much to his relief.

He peeked out, seeing the handmaiden walk out of the room. He counted to three, sensing that she was indeed leaving, and with a light wave of two fingers, he shut the door. Padme didn’t seem to notice, apparently assuming that Dorme had shut the door behind her. Padme was standing a ways from the gaping window, the breeze blowing into the room. But her hair was so perfectly placed that it did not stir in the wind, her hair and clothes a perfect work of art.

“Hello there,” he said softly as he stepped out of the closet.

She turned sharply with a gasp, lips parting. Their eyes met for a moment, neither of them saying anything, alone together for the first time in years. Gathering up her skirts she rushed to him, her arms opening. He should have stopped her in her tracks, dodged her, drew his lightsaber—anything to not do exactly what he did by gathering her against him in the way he had been aching to do when he saw her again, when she was nearly killed.

He needed to tell her that they could not do this, that they needed distance.

“Padme—”

She had taken his face in her hands and pulled him in for a kiss, intense and passionate, built up over the past two years of being apart. And he could not resist it.

He melted into her, returning the kiss, pulling her in closer. She was pushing him with her body now, with surprising strength for so petite a physique.

He let her push him backward onto her freshly made bed, and in all the layers of petticoats and long sleeves, she crawled on top of him gracefully, straddling over him with alarming authority. He was a little tangled up in his own robes at this point, but she seemed to know what she was doing. Her small, nimble hands worked to push aside his tunics, to get into his pants and free his manhood. To feel her hands on him provoked a soft grunt. Maybe _this_ was where he should tell her to stop.

There was no way of telling what else she had on beneath those skirts but it didn’t seem to matter. She stroked him enough to get him hard, rose herself up to align with him, guiding him to her wet entrance, and she slowly eased down, taking him in and he had to press his lips together to keep in the sounds of sheer pleasure as she rocked her hips, the smallest of whimpers escaping her as she gripped his robe.

Even in the dizzying haze of sexual madness, he sensed her desperation for him, the need for this physical release after such a harrowing night. But there was more than that.

He sensed such love from her, even in the way she looked at him from above, her chest heaving, her cheeks red.

He sat up, his hands supporting her as she kept her tempo mouths meeting again. Her fingers were in his hair now, pulling, caressing. And together they finished in a silent supernova, bodies hot and locked together. It felt like a lifetime but ended all too quickly.

Breathless and trembling, she didn’t dismount from him just yet. She continued to cradle his face in her hands, noses touching, labored breaths colliding between them.

“What were you thinking jumping out the window like that…?” she whispered.

“I wasn’t thinking,” he confessed, unable to conjure some witty retort. It was difficult to think with her on top of him, his body radiating fire. “Which is what concerns me. Padme…” he whispered still, meeting her gaze. “We must end this...”

“I know,” she said weakly, her fingers tracing his jaw beneath the beard. “We said we weren’t attached…”

Still breathless, his lips found their way to her neck, all without thought. He felt her shudder and she gently pushed at his chest. She carefully climbed off of him and they both straightened their clothes, crawling off the bed and back onto their feet. He had a bit of trouble untwisting his hood.

“What do we do?” she asked, looking into the mirror to be sure her elaborately styled hair wasn’t too misplaced.

He stepped near enough to be heard at a whisper, so that his voice wouldn’t carry through the thin walls. “We must think past ourselves… I have already experienced alarming clouding in my judgement because of my feelings for you. If I were to leave the Jedi Order—”

“No!” she turned to him, but he raised a reassuring hand.

“I can’t leave the Order any more than you could retire from being a Senator…”

“What if I did?”

It was pure folly in her quick response. He sighed and looked at her knowingly. Her eyes dipped beneath thick lashes.

“No, I never could…” she quietly admitted. Though her face was down, hiding it a little from him, he could still see it enough to see her expression contort a little with a sudden surge of pain. She sniffed lightly, wiped her eye, and looked boldly to him. “So we carry on as we always have as friends. Nothing more.”

Her bravery broke his heart, but as always she impressed him with her ability to be strong in the face of pain, to put her duty first. He nodded and battled the need to touch her again.

“I meant what I said, Padme… That nothing could lessen our friendship.”

“Was it your choice to not be my bodyguard?” She was bracing herself, as if ready for a harsh truth.

“No… The council made the decision…” He didn’t want to tell her that he suspected Yoda knew, or at least sensed the emotional turmoil on Obi-Wan’s part. “I have more experience than Anakin when it comes to investigating. He will keep you safe. I trust him with my own life.”

He sensed that she was uneasy, he assumed it was the dangerous circumstances, and he wanted to hold her. So he stepped away. 

“The council wants you to return to Naboo until things are safe,” he said gently.

The insult was clear on her face. “I’m not going to hide. I won’t leave. Not until the vote.”

“Anakin is speaking to Chancellor Palpatine at this moment, to ensure that you do as the council commands. I’m afraid you don’t have many options, Padme…”

She was staring at him in a way that he knew would be lethal if she knew how to use the Force. 

“I wish I could be like you, Obi-Wan…” she said suddenly. “I wish I knew how to just… shut myself off from feeling anything. Maybe I can learn.”

And he could feel it, all the pain she was feeling at this moment for a man she only saw every couple of years or so. “Even if we can’t shut out feelings, we can at least be rational despite them. On my part, even if I find myself confused or passionate, I can be sure of one thing. I can be sure of the Jedi Code that I have sworn myself to. My love for you is forbidden.”

Her breath caught, and the turmoil that he sensed in her intensified. He said too much. She opened her mouth to speak, but there came a voice at her door.

“My lady?” it was Dorme. “There is a call for you from Chancellor Palpatine.”

“I will see you in a few hours when you leave for Naboo…” he said quietly. Even in the promise to see her again, this felt like a permanent farewell.

“Goodbye.”

That was all she said, and he stepped out of the window, landing into the speeder that he hired. Even though it hurt to say goodbye to her as a lover, he was more determined than ever to track down whoever it was that wanted her dead. 

* * *

No, she wasn’t putting her duty first when she agreed to stop seeing Obi-Wan. She would have stepped down from her position as senator in a heartbeat if it meant being with him, but she could not allow him to do the same. To be a Jedi was a commitment of life, heart, mind, and soul, and Obi-Wan Kenobi was the best of them, as far as she was concerned. She could not rob him of that identity. She didn’t want to find herself living with him years later, seeing the regret in his eyes. She felt a piece of herself had been taken when she was no longer a queen, she knew it would be infinitely more scarring for a Jedi to leave the order.

Obi-Wan was able to see this more objectively than she could and she trusted his judgment. She knew he cared, she felt it when he touched her, the way he looked at her and spoke to her, the way that he kissed her, and if he could be strong enough to end it, so could she.  
Then he had to use that word.

_My love for you is forbidden._

My love.

They had avoided that word, so careful not to utter it, and he spoke it as if he was casting it off once and for all. He loved her? Was she willing to admit that maybe she loved him too? They had so little time together, years apart, scattered moments. Passion, maybe, but it couldn’t be love. All she knew was that she felt angry at him and wanted nothing more than to be with him. 

It was safest for them to be apart, because if he was the one accompanying her to Naboo, she would go mad. The necessity of their separation didn’t make it any easier when they finally parted ways on the transport. She said goodbye to Dorme, and perhaps overcorrected in her professionalism with Obi-Wan by calling him “Master Jedi.”  
It was difficult not to notice how often he forced his gaze away from her, even as she walked away with Anakin, their luggage in tow, R2-D2 at their heels. She made a conscious effort not to look back. The farther she moved away from Obi-Wan, the less sure she was of anything.

“Suddenly I’m afraid…” she didn’t mean to say it out loud. 

“This is my first assignment on my own…” Anakin said. “I am too.”

It surprised her to hear a Jedi admit to fear—her own bodyguard no less. But then, she had always been made aware of Anakin’s vulnerability, and even now as an adult he was not afraid to show it to her.

“Don’t worry, we have Artoo with us,” he added with a smile, clearly to ease the anxiety.

She laughed. It felt good to laugh with the tears she had been holding back.

* * *

Obi-Wan watched from the transport as Padme and Anakin walked away. Not once did she turn around to look back, and he was glad. It showed her resolve, even though she hated everything about having to run away. He could feel how afraid she was, the anger in her. Having a bounty hunter after you at a crucial point in your career and in the galaxy, it was understandable. But he did wonder how much of that anger was directed towards him.  
He shook himself from dwelling on the negative speculation. It was unneeded distraction. He only hoped that she would at least find some peace being at home, until this was solved.

He could hear them laughing, and that was all the comfort Obi-Wan needed to know that she would be okay. Anakin, with all his hot headedness, had grown up to be a good man. He would be a good friend when she needed one. But Obi-Wan had a sinking feeling that it would not stop there.

“I do hope he doesn’t try anything foolish…” he spoke when Captain Typho stood beside him.

Typho didn’t even hesitate in his reply. “I’d be more concerned about her doing something than him…”


	6. Chapter 6

The next time Obi-Wan saw Padme, he was chained up in the Petranaki Arena of Geonosis awaiting his execution at the hands of Count Dooku, the Trade Federation, and the Geonosians.

He had followed Jango Fett here and uncovered a deeper plot of the Separatists as led by Count Dooku, and Dooku attempting to fool him into thinking that there was a Sith lord in the senate. He then unsuccessfully attempted to lure Obi-Wan to join him in fighting the Sith, a poorly veiled attempt to trick the Jedi into the Dark Side. It was a dry, horrid planet, and he had been chained to a stone pillar with his hands over his head for the good part of an hour, subjected to the clicks and hisses and shouts of the bug-like Geonosians. It was very undignified.

As he stood there chained to the pillar, he patiently waited for the opportunity of escape to arise, all the while fearing the message he had sent to Anakin was never forwarded to the Jedi. 

What in the world was Anakin doing on Tatooine in the first place? Without his master there to guide him, Anakin was surely acting on his need to go to his mother, to respond to the nightmares he had been having. He felt twinges of fear for what that meant for Padme. Was she left alone on Naboo? Did she go with him to that decrepit desert planet? He was going to have some stern words for his young apprentice once he got out of here. If he got out of here.

The Geonosian leader announced in their native tongue that there were two more prisoners to be executed on grounds of espionage, one of which was a Jedi. 

That explained where Anakin was.

The gates across the arena rattled open and emerging from the darkness was the chariot carrying the new prisoners. He recognized his apprentice in an instant beside the white-clad senator. Their faces were close, just pulling away in what could only have been a kiss.

A kiss.

For an instant, he no longer heard the chaotic noise of the stadium, he heard only the noise in his head.

In the time that it took for the chariot to be driven in and the prisoners unloaded with the chains on their wrists, Obi-Wan put everything he had into quieting his mind. Whatever happened in the time that he was on his investigation, while Anakin and Padme were alone together, they had fallen in love. He could feel it. Obi-Wan wanted to trust the boy’s Jedi training, that he would not give in to his feelings for her, and it failed.

Now he knew they had indeed gotten his message and he could not help the sharp gaze and tone towards his apprentice as Anakin was chained up beside him. He didn’t know if his jealousy was directed at one, both, or neither. He cared deeply for Padme and Anakin, but Anakin was oblivious to his master’s feelings for her.  
Feelings could wait. The beasts meant to kill them were released.

The fight to escape escalated into all-out war when the Jedi arrived in droves, then the Clone Army led by Master Yoda came flying in. Explosions of blasters and artillery shook the earth, lightsabers danced in every direction. In the heat of battle, Obi-Wan was reminded how capable Anakin was as a warrior, and in moments when the Jedi Master was not fighting for his own life, he had caught glimpses of the synchronicity between Padme and Anakin as they fought side by side, intuitive and compatible.

Then, Count Dooku made his escape, the key figure in the growing Separatist rebellion. There was no room for personal feelings in war, and together, Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Padme pursued Count Dooku.

As they flew after him, Padme was knocked from the carrier. There was a surge of panic, primarily from Anakin as he screamed her name. Obi-Wan, though he felt that pang of fear, knew she was landing on the soft dunes, and there were allies beneath. More than anything, they had to catch Dooku. He ordered his apprentice to focus, but Anakin’s mind was distracted, his emotions flaring.

She found them after their fight with Count Dooku, the two Jedi beaten and humiliated, their lives saved by Master Yoda himself. Obi-Wan had been cut deep by Dooku’s lightsaber, in his arm and leg, but Anakin had the worse injury. The Sith Lord had cut off Anakin’s right arm at the elbow.  
Padme found them and ran directly to Anakin, throwing her arms around him.

Obi-Wan didn’t resent that she seemed more worried about Anakin. He was alarmed, however, that they so brazenly embraced each other in the presence of other Jedi and Clone troopers. He was alarmed that Padme Amidala, who had been so professional and painfully understanding of the need for secrecy and no attachments, was so single-mindedly concerned about Anakin.

That thought plagued him as they were escorted by the Clone troopers to the nearest assembly area. The battle was still raging between droids and clones, but it was far off in the distance, sounding like a massive thunderstorm. The air was clouded with dust and the smell of burnt metal and bodies. He couldn’t dwell on his own personal emotions and concerns, most of his attention towards Yoda and the new problem of Count Dooku’s escape. But reports were coming in that the Clones were rapidly gaining the advantage and victory was in their grasp.

They were taken into a medical shuttle for treatment, and Anakin was the first to be looked after. While lightsaber wounds tended to be instantly cauterized, that didn’t mean there was no risk of complication, or that they didn’t hurt like hell for weeks after. Or months, or years. Obi-Wan could feel his own muscles and tendons burnt to the bone, he could only imagine how his padawan felt.

Padme, too, had her injuries. She had been slashed across her back by a nexu and had fallen quite a ways from the troop transport carrier. Anakin was isolated as the medical droids worked on his arm, fitting him for a temporary prosthetic, and Padme was in her own private medical wing. Obi-Wan, after receiving treatment for his own comparatively superficial wounds, requested admission to Padme.

When he was granted access, he saw that there was only one droid needed to attend her. She was lying on her stomach, her shirt removed so that the droid could access the wound in its entirety. She was well covered, however, for modestly. Her head was turned to the side, resting on her arms, and when she saw him, there was only a faint smile.  
There was shame ebbing from her, a defensive but submissive reaction.

So, he smiled warmly as he approached, limping just a little from the searing wound in his thigh. His white tabard spotted with burn marks.

“You fought very bravely today, Senator,” he didn’t mask how impressed he was. “Although, if I’m not mistaken, you were supposed to be in hiding…”

“If you think I’d stay in hiding while you were in danger, then you don’t know me at all…” she was smiling more genuinely.

There was also fear in her. Afraid of him? Reproach about her and Anakin? He knew there was love between them, he could sense it. 

“Is Anakin alright?” she asked with an impressively neutral tone.

“Yes. He will have a new arm soon… Though it will take some time for him to train with it.”

There were tears in her eyes. The droid was working on the larger slash and Padme winced, letting out a small whimper.

“Nearly finished,” the droid said with its programmed bedside manner.

A tremble ran through her, and he held out a hand to her, palm up. She hesitantly placed her small hand in his, and he set his other hand on top. He hoped the gesture would be platonic, but he could not ignore the way her mere touch electrified him.

She knew that he knew. So far, the affection between her and Anakin wasn’t the best kept secret. He was willing to help keep this secret for them. After all, Anakin had not been as wholly devoted to the Jedi Code as Obi-Wan. The boy had even mentioned time and time again that he considered leaving the order. It was far too strenuous for him, having not been in the life from birth. But to have an affair with a Jedi was to play with fire.

They said nothing as the droid sealed the wounds, the silence welcome, though heavy. He felt such a need to just hold her in his arms, to reassure her that there was no ill will, that he did not judge either of them. But the idea of holding her was pure fantasy, for any Jedi. Whatever was between her and Anakin, he hoped would pass in time.

Out of his love for them both, he would say nothing. He was accustomed to silent sorrow.

* * *

Everything she had fought for in the name of democracy, the vote she was going to take and had put her very life in danger for, was all for nothing when the Senate passed emergency powers to Chancellor Palpatine. His first decision was to create the Republican Army.

There did not seem to be any immediate danger to her anymore, but more than one authority preferred that she return to Naboo, just a little longer until Count Dooku’s whereabouts were discovered.

Anakin who was ordered to escort her home, and she was terrified. She was afraid of her inability to say no when she was with him. More than anything, she was afraid of the realization that haunted her since she sat there in silence with Obi-Wan, his hand on hers, and not a word spoken about the embrace that she and Anakin openly shared. The embrace that Obi-Wan had seen.

She knew she had to end this.

Obi-Wan wasn’t a fool. He saw them, but was perhaps too dignified to say anything. Or maybe he was too hurt. The thought of hurting him made the shame unbearable, but she could not control how she felt with Anakin. It caught her by surprise and neither of them could hold onto codes or rules. Whatever she felt for Anakin and he felt for her burned too hotly for chains and it confused her.

She had ended it with Obi-Wan already, why wouldn’t she be able to do it again? As if it was easy to begin with and didn’t eat away at her daily to be longing after a Jedi Master that she knew she could never have, or who would never let her have him.

She enjoyed Anakin’s company when he first escorted her to Naboo, while Obi-Wan was off investigating who hired the bounty hunter. Though she wanted to keep the Jedi padawan at arm’s length. Sometimes it was easy, like when he proved to be a little less than eloquent in voicing his feelings and went so far as to trail a finger on the exposed skin of her back. It was bold, a thing she knew Obi-Wan would never do. She looked to Anakin with the intention to tell him to stop, to tell him to keep his distance as a Jedi was expected to. But the moment she met his gaze, she was seized in it. The intensity of his eyes and his desire for her consumed her so suddenly it almost made her catatonic.

He slowly leaned in to kiss her… and she let him.

She let him kiss her in the way that she had always wished Obi-Wan would—and it was the thought of her former lover that plunged her back into reason and she broke the kiss.

But Anakin was so different from his master. Where Obi-Wan was reserved and cryptic about his feelings or desires, Anakin was honest to the point of overzealousness. She didn’t know what to do with such honesty. But in all the time they spent together on Naboo, that honesty was contagious. With Anakin, she was able to laugh, to play, to be more than a politician. It was increasingly difficult to remember things like duty when they were both so far removed from it.

Every time she suddenly noticed the width of his shoulders, the cut of his jaw, or felt the resonance of his voice, she was forgetting more and more that she knew him as a child. This was a man and for the first time, she felt truly wanted.

The wound left from Obi-Wan was still raw, making every advance from Anakin almost painful. So when he finally put it to words and laid his soul bare to her, she was determined not to go through the same hell she felt with Obi-Wan. The secrecy, the distance, the guilt, and the foolish belief that the passionate, stolen moments made it all worth it.

Unlike Obi-Wan, Anakin was not afraid to beg for reciprocation. He was new to love, he was too young and isolated from the world to know how to navigate the treacherous waters, and she tried to reason with him. And he argued, tried to sway her into giving in. He had no regard for the Jedi Code that kept her apart from Obi-Wan, and it scared her that she was encouraged by that.

She began to realize that her strength in ending her relationship before all came from Obi-Wan. On her own, she was weak. She was needy. Maybe even selfish.

“We could keep it a secret,” Anakin said.

There was the naïve boy she remembered. Hopeful and fearless.

“We’d be living a lie. One we couldn’t keep even if we wanted to. I couldn’t do that.” Not again. “Could you, Anakin? Could you live like that?”

“No…” he didn’t sound convinced. But she could see he was finally accepting her answer. “You’re right. It would destroy us.”

Something about the way he looked at her as he said it, the light of the fireplace in his eye, made her feel that he would welcome the destruction. And eventually she welcomed it too when she thought it was inevitable, as they were led into the Petranaki Arena for their executions.

There was a change in her when she finally admitted out loud her own feelings, when she allowed herself to be attached. He had her in a spell, and she was ready to give it all for him.

A fracture was made in that spell over her when Obi-Wan came to her in the medical shuttle and reminded her of the real world, his touch comforting and agonizing all at once. It almost felt like he was being cruel by touching her, telling her without saying a word to give up on the complete and unconditional love from Anakin. She knew Obi-Wan so well, though. He did not speak because he had no malice. He was not capable. But she knew how horribly rational he could be, and knew that she needed to be as well. She needed to break Anakin’s heart so that she didn’t let him destroy his life.

They landed back on Naboo, and Anakin was clutching at his robotic arm, concealed beneath his dark cloak. She knew it still caused him pain, but he was also self-conscious of the cybernetic limb. They hardly spoke a word throughout their journey, though he would smile to her in a way that made her chest hurt. Every time he looked at her, he looked at her as though she was the blazing heart of the universe. He didn’t know what she intended to do, but he sensed her uneasiness enough to take her hand when he thought no one was looking.

She intended to speak with him at the first moment they were alone, and the opportunity came when he helped her to carry her luggage to her room of the lake house. All the way there, her heart was pounding so hard she almost couldn’t breathe. As he set her cases on the floor at the foot of her bed, she shut the door.

“Anakin…” she began softly, her back towards him, unable to face him. “There’s so much we have to talk about...”

“Yes there is,” he was right behind her, his natural arm closing around her waist and pulling her against him.

He felt solid, strong, and she leaned into him. “Ani…” She lost her voice when he kissed the crook of her neck. She knew how bold he could be, how he had no restraint, and she felt with a blast of heat that he wanted to take her here and now, and the thought made her dizzy.

She wanted it, but she hadn’t forgotten Obi-Wan and his silence. Breathlessly, she pulled out of his embrace and turned to face him. He was so close, hot with need, and her back was against the door now. She made the mistake of meeting his gaze. His eyes burrowed deep into her and she was helpless. All in a moment, she was ready to be taken by him. She trembled when he touched her cheek with one, warm hand. He deliberately kept his robotic hand at his side.

“Padme… Will you marry me?”

She blinked at him stupidly. “What?”

He was smiling. “Marry me. Today. Right now.”

He was crazier than she thought he was. This vaulted beyond any carnal fling that she expected it to be. “Jedi can’t marry.” It was an idiotic response, but she was at a loss.

He chuckled, not a care in the world. “I don’t care. No one has to know.”

“It won’t be a real marriage without witnesses… By Naboo law.”

“We have witnesses. C3PO and R2-D2 are perfectly legal candidates.”

He was right. It was as though he had been reading up on Naboo marriage laws. “You’ve been thinking about this.”

“Haven’t you?”

She swallowed hard. “Not of marriage…” she was ashamed to admit, her eyes falling to his lips.

“Padme…” the way he said her name always made her shudder. “I want you. All of you, all to myself. I can’t bear not being bound to you for the rest of our lives…”

He was sincere, as he always was, and she didn’t know how to fight it. “But how could we live together?”

“We’ll find a way,” he said easily. “Marry me, Padme…”

She couldn’t find the words when she was pulled into his gaze again. Her mind was buzzing with the argument against the ludicrous idea. When would they ever see each other? Did it matter if it was just between the two of them? Why would she want to dwindle her own world down to just her and him, this boy she hardly knew? How could she look Obi-Wan in the eye and lie to his face?

His smile was faltering at her hesitation. “Say you’ll marry me…”

The arguments never found their way out of her mouth. Her mind silenced and all she could see were Anakin’s eyes.

“I’ll marry you...” She spoke, but it felt like someone else.

He gasped out a breath of relief and kissed her deeply. In that moment, she thought she was happy.


	7. Chapter 7

He sent Anakin as Padme’s bodyguard to Naboo knowing full well that they were in love. He was offering to them, as if on a gold platter, this chance to be together. A chance to be happy, maybe, in a way that he knew he never could be.

The Jedi in Obi-Wan Kenobi, however, knew this was forbidden. That he shouldn’t be an accomplice in such violations of the Jedi Code after years of hammering it into his apprentice’s skull.

Perhaps he was escaping hypocrisy by saying nothing. Perhaps this was all selfish.

The more he thought about that spark he felt between them, the more he knew he had nothing to do with this. He was not a factor in this equation anymore. There was no equation of him and Padme.

But as he sat there alone in his quarters at the Jedi temple, he was in agony trying to balance himself. Now that his investigation was over, the battle on Geonosis behind him, he was at the mercy of the quiet and the thoughts that emerged.

He was on a cushioned chair, legs crossed in the traditional meditative pose, his utility belt off, his tunic loose. There was still a small pain radiating through him from the lightsaber wounds on his arm and thigh, put there by a Sith. A Sith. He needed to think about that.

Obi-Wan reached out through the Force, to guide his mind and thoughts to the real problem at hand. The Darkside was closing in on them, and no Jedi could track its source.

He would never be able to kiss her again.

No, he _needed_ to be present. It was dangerous to think of the things that have been or could have been or would never be.

Like holding her in his arms.

Falling asleep beside her, waking up beside her.

Feeling her hands on his face.

Her nails on his back.

Her lips on his.

And if he were to see her again, yes he might still see her smile, hear her voice, be in her presence, and he knew it would hurt, but it could never kill him. A part of him wished it would….

The door to his quarters slid open, thrusting him out of the deep thoughts that he had allowed himself to drown in. A long shadow was cast across his floor, but it belonged to someone much smaller.

“Master Yoda…” he moved to rise, but was halted by the small green hand that raised to him. It was a simple gesture, but as effective as if Yoda had used the Force to keep him seated.

“Sit. Please.” Yoda hobbled in slowly, leaning on his cane, and the door shut behind him. He stood in front of Obi-Wan, both hands propped on top of the stick as he looked up at him. 

Obi-Wan didn’t sense anything of concern, there was no urgency or danger. This could not have been about the Clone Army or Count Dooku. However, it was clear that the Jedi Master had a purpose here. So, Obi-Wan did as he had always done, and was silent but attentive.

Yoda stared at him—stared _into_ him.

“Hmmm…” his voice graveled, a clawed finger coming to his chin. “As I thought. _As I thought._ I sense deep sadness in you, Young Kenobi.”

Even still at his age, he was young compared to Master Yoda, and he knew he could not lie to his master’s face. His chin dipped, his brow hard set.

“I am trying to gain control, Master. It is… Difficult.”

Another chair from across the small, simple quarters, floated across the floor, scooting just a fraction of an inch over the floor to not drag. Yoda grabbed it and climbed into the seat, bringing himself closer to eye level with Obi-Wan, his cane across his small lap.

“You believe it is control you do not have, hm?”

He thought about it. “Not control then… But balance. I lack focus.”

“Hard to focus, it is, when a heart is broken.”

Obi-Wan didn’t raise his eyes to his master. There was no need to. Yoda knew.

“In love, you are…. with Senator Padme Amidala.”

It wasn’t unusual for Jedi Masters to be so forward, so frank with exposing the most raw emotions of someone, especially their own. Often it was the only way to work through it. Obi-Wan managed a nod.

“Do not be ashamed, Obi-Wan. To many Jedi this has happened. Including your own Master Qui-Gon Jinn.”

Obi-Wan had heard tales here and there about his Master’s adventures, all the reasons big and small that kept him from becoming a council member.

“I will accept expulsion, if that is what must be done, Master Yoda.”

“Expulsion, you say?” Yoda’s rough vocals raised a little in a rare expression of surprise. “Hear anyone speak of expulsion, I did not.”

That finally drew Obi-Wan’s gaze to his master. “Some other form of discipline, then. I’ve made the wrong choice, Master, I must face it.”

And Yoda smiled. Not obviously, but the lines around his mouth deepened, his eyes squinting a little. “Are you not facing it now, Obi-Wan? Is not this wallowing good enough punishment for you? Hm? The right choice, you have made. That is why _suffering_ you are.” He poked a small finger towards Obi-Wan for emphasis.

Hearing the words didn’t stop the pain in his heart, but it lifted a weight off of him. And yet another thought emerged that dropped the weight back onto him so suddenly, it crushed into his very guts. Yoda sensed it.

“Concerned about your choice in sending your apprentice to Naboo, are you?”

Even after all these years, Obi-Wan was surprised at Yoda’s intuitiveness. “Yes…”

Yoda nodded solemnly. “Right to be concerned, you are. Allowing your apprentice to do what you have denied yourself… Very concerning, indeed. But the wrong choice, I think not.”

“How could it possibly be the _right_ choice?”

“Your reasons behind the choice, tell me…” Yoda offered his full attention.

Obi-Wan was struck silent for a moment. He had never considered vocalizing any of this, bringing out loud the secrets he had been harboring all these years between him and Padme. But it was cathartic. It was necessary if there was any hope of being the Jedi that he was meant to be.

“I cannot bring myself to cause either of them the same pain that I am feeling now…” he said quietly. “Especially Anakin. He has suffered and has had so little joy to call his own.

As his mentor, my abilities to balance him have been disadvantaged from the start. Being with her has made it easier for him to see the light of the Force. I sense it in him.”

“And what of _her_ suffering?”

“Life has made her far too wise to be beaten by it,” he could answer without hesitation. “I never have to fear for her because I know she is strong enough without me—without anyone. I am certain she can rise from any pain, because I have seen her do it time and time again.”

“Then believe, you do, that Skywalker is unstable…?”

“He has not had the benefit of a lifetime of your guidance, Master… And he is burdened with prophecy.”

Yoda nodded. “And trust that prophecy we must, that he is the Chosen One. That balance he will bring. In time this love affair will pass. It must.”

So Yoda, too, intended to let things run their course.

The older Jedi master slowly wriggled out of the chair and onto his feet, the chair floating back to its original place.

“Leave you to meditate, I will. Remember, Master Kenobi, to trust in the Force. Allow it to heal the wounds inside that you feel. Allow it to guide your thoughts outward, not inward. Think not that to love is wrong. Helped, it cannot be. Help, it sometimes can. But remain detached, you must. Letting go, the strength of every Jedi, is.”

And Yoda left him alone again with those words that had been drilled into him since he was an infant. He was able to let go of Qui-Gon. He needed to let go of Anakin. He needed to let go of Padme.

He closed his eyes, opened himself to let the force in and envelope him. Finally he let it carry him into peace and tranquility. And there he stayed for nearly an hour, finding the balance of the universe inside of him. He had made the right choice in letting go of his bonds. 

But there came suddenly the crack of a feeling—far from a fully formed thought or vision—just a mere sensation…

Padme would never be out of his life. And he would never truly let her go.


	8. Chapter 8

When she agreed to marry him, she thought she was happy.

The wedding ceremony ended, they kissed as husband and wife, and she looked into his eyes and saw him smiling—she couldn’t do the same. Why couldn’t she smile? How did she get here? Why did it feel so wrong?

Of course it was wrong, it was forbidden for a Jedi to marry.

It was wrong because she loved someone else.

She was relieved when his eyes were finally off of her, when they looked out together over the lake at the setting sun, the wind carrying a chill across the water and right through her.

Had she wanted this? She could count on one hand the number of times that she and Anakin had shared a kiss or embraced—now they were bound for life.

Stars were beginning to pierce the sky, the darkness pushing away the light towards the horizon and the next thing she knew she was hoisted up into Anakin’s arms. He lifted her so effortlessly that it took her breath away, but as she held onto him, she felt… powerless.

He carried her over the threshold of the open terrace doors of her room and set her gently on the bed, lying her on her back, the laced veil of her dress pooled behind her. He threw off his cloak and leaned over her, and she could see that he was already breathless. He seemed nervous and her first instinct was to comfort him with a hand to his cheek.

The flame of desire was in his eyes. She wanted to wrap herself in a blanket, to cover herself from those eyes. They were were blue, but not like his master’s. The blue of Anakin’s eyes could burn hot or cold at any moment, and they reached deep inside her. Her own thoughts escaped her and her body responded in kind to his. He was young, inexperienced, but he knew what he wanted.

They had their wedding night, and she gave herself completely to him. She fell asleep beside him, her dreams entrenched in Anakin’s words of love and agony for her, her own voice screaming in the distance. She awoke, dazed. When Anakin looked into her eyes and spoke to her, she was calmed.

She loved Anakin. She believed it whenever he looked at her.

But then came the inevitable separation when he left her on Naboo because he was called on a mission to a system that was at risk from the new Confederate Army, as led by Count Dooku. And when he was gone, she was struck with panic and the love she felt for him wavered.

What had she done? Why did she marry him? This wasn’t like her at all.

She was afraid and knew she should reach out to Anakin for comfort, he was her husband, that was what a wife was supposed to do. Instead she found herself glad with the distance from him.

She wanted to speak to Obi-Wan. With him, she could always find solace in his steadfast wisdom, in the way she knew he made her feel. When she was with Obi-Wan, she felt at home.

And the guilt of how she felt was eating away inside of her. Anakin was a good man, he had risked his life for her, he worshiped her and loved her deeply. He was worth her affections, even if he wasn’t allowed to have them. Padme had never been disingenuous to any man she knew romantically, she was honest and frank every step of the way. And yet, she wasn’t sure that she was lying to Anakin. The affection was real. To call it love was too far, but she could not stop the syllable from pulling out of her throat.

Worst of all, she didn’t understand her own emotions well enough to speak to anyone about it. This was a secret to be closely guarded, for Anakin’s sake more than hers, and she felt far too ashamed and confused. If she spoke to anyone, he would be expelled from the Jedi Order and her own reputation would be left in shreds. To speak to Obi-Wan would obligate him to respond as a Jedi, and she knew she couldn’t bear to be on the receiving end of that silent, lethal look of judgment. He spoke volumes without uttering a word, and his disgust in her would kill her.

And Anakin… Without a doubt he was a powerful, skilled warrior and a genius mechanic, with all the courage and confidence to match. But his heart was brittle. She feared what would become of him if his heart was broken. Perhaps she could be strong enough for the both of them. Maybe he needed something to come home to every time he was called to war.

This confusion had to be put aside so that she could focus on her work. The galaxy was churning with escalating conflicts in every system, clones and droid armies dispatched and clashing in all directions. 

Since their marriage, she and Anakin had their secret rendezvous only three times. It was five months since she had last seen Obi-Wan, and only four weeks since she last saw Anakin.

As always, when Anakin returned to Coruscant from an assignment, he went straight to her at the first opportunity. They made love—passionate, but tender—and afterward as they lay together naked, they talked, knowing he would have to be gone in the morning. It was their way.

She lay with her head on his chest as it rose and fell heavily so that he could catch his breath from their exercise, her own body still thrumming. In these moments she was not as confused and she knew she loved him. It felt so different than her nights with Obi-Wan, it made her wonder if her feelings for Anakin or his master was love at all. Maybe it was love for one and not the other, but she could not understand which.

One thing was for certain. It was nice to just lay with him like this, to not shirk any intimate embrace because it might denote attachment. To not think about anything else and to just listen to the heartbeat of the man she married. But he sighed heavily, in that haughty way that he did when he was frustrated. She looked up at him in the dark, the lights of the city coming through the blinds just enough to light the crease of his brow.

“What’s the matter?” she asked softly.

“It’s nothing, my love…” he said quietly.

She waited.

“It’s Obi-Wan,” he huffed. He couldn’t help it. He could never keep it in. 

“What about Obi-Wan?” She felt ashamed saying his name, the way it made her blood rush.

It felt like years since she had seen him, longer than ever, when it was only mere months. 

“I’m finally going to graduate from a padawan… The council finally thinks I’m ready after I fought Count Dooku.”

“That’s wonderful news, Anakin,” she sat up, smiling with happiness for him. But he was still frowning hard. “So why are you angry with Obi-Wan? He doesn’t think you’re ready?”

“He does… He was the one who convinced the council that I was ready and didn’t need to undergo the trials. Which… I’m grateful for.” 

The gratitude sounded forced.

“But he still questions me going on my own missions without him.”

There it was. Anakin was keeping his voice level, but his robotic hand was in a fist as he pressed it to his furrowed brow.

“He hovers over me, doubts me, accuses me of arrogance… He still treats me like a child.”

This wasn’t the first time that she had heard him complain about Obi-Wan’s mentorship.

“He cares about you,” she said softly, her fingers lightly toying with the small braid over his shoulder, realizing it would be gone soon. “I think he will need to adjust as much as you with no longer being his apprentice… Be patient.”

“Sometimes I feel like he doesn’t want me to succeed as a Jedi… Sometimes I sense that he hopes I’ll leave the order.”

“He always devoted himself entirely to teaching you—”

“Why do you always defend him?”

She didn’t realize she was doing it, and Anakin had lifted his head to look at her, his eyes sharp.

“I just want you to know how loved you are, Anakin…” She stroked her thumb across his brow, as if to smooth away his frown. “Sometimes the only way people can show they care is by being hard on us…”

He sighed at her touch, his eyes fluttering closed. “I don’t think he cares… Not like you do, Padme…”

Yes, she cared about Anakin. But a chill of guilt rattled through her when she realized that she didn’t care in the way that Anakin did. His love for her burned with such an intensity, it was impossible to reciprocate. He proclaimed he couldn’t breathe when he was away from her—she could. And she couldn’t help the ringing through her body whenever she heard Obi-Wan’s name.

They fell asleep together and she was taking in the scent of her husband, but her thoughts got away from her as she sank into dreams…

_Obi-Wan…_

Her focus was on his lips first, framed by that auburn beard that she missed feeling on her body. Everything seemed as if encased in a fog and she had to feel her way to see the rest of him, her hands wandering from his lips, over his beard, his cheeks, his brow. His hair was shorter now, it wasn’t long like she remembered. Dreams weren’t always accurate, she knew.

Now she could see his eyes, blue like the lakes of Naboo, glimmering in that cheeky way that always made her want to giggle like an idiot. Now she found his neck, his shoulders. Where was his Jedi tunic? Oh well, she remembered what he was like without it. She found his chest, she could even feel the tickle of the hairs there on her fingertips. 

All along his torso she went, as if sculpting him out of thin air into how she remembered him. But there was a scar on his bicep that was not there before. Certainly her imagination put it there, she had seen his injuries on Geonosis. She could feel the rough texture of it, still hot from a lightsaber.

She found his hips, the line of his pelvis and down she went, feeling it all. She found his manhood and it was already firm in her grip. She stroked him, felt him. She had not sculpted out his hands, she could not see them, but she could feel them on her hips— _through_ her hips and reaching deep inside of her, finding the deepest, most sensitive corners.

His touch ignited her, filled her with the warmth of the universe. She could not offer him the same, beyond the dexterity of her hands. The air itself felt frenetic, desperate, hungry. Her hand moved faster and the universe inside her coalesced until it exploded and she cried out with pleasure into the fog, melting into a pool of stars.

* * *

  
Obi-Wan opened his eyes with Padme’s scream still echoing in his mind, the sound of ecstasy burning through him and he woke in mid, violent orgasm. He was sweating, his heart palpitating wildly, and he was alone in his quarters at the Jedi Temple. He sleepily swiped the strands of short bangs that stuck to his brow, his new hair cut creating a new habit of doing so.

After his talk with Yoda, he spent the rest of the evening meditating to clear his mind of the emotions that plagued him around Padme, but so many little things brought her back to him. One of them was the memory of her fingers in his long hair. He decided to cut it. He would never discuss the motives to anyone (no one had reason to ask) but it felt like a symbolic purging of unneeded feelings. He kept the beard, though, he quite liked it.

Obviously this ritualistic haircut did not work miracles. The dream of her was so intense his heart was still beating out of his chest, his body shuddering and hot. 

Even when he suffered through raging puberty as a teenager, never had he experienced such a dream, as if Padme had been in the very room with him. He knew she was miles away in her apartment… with Anakin. He hadn’t even been thinking about them. He was far too exhausted from their last mission and was glad to sleep.

This was just a vivid dream. So vivid, in fact, that he had to change his clothes—highly inconvenient and undignified.

 _Dreams pass in time_ , he once told Anakin.

But what kind of dream left the smell of Padme on his fingertips?


	9. Chapter 9

More than a year after the Battle on Geonosis, Anakin finally shed the padawan braid and became a Jedi Knight. They were no longer master and apprentice, Obi-Wan and Anakin were now on equal footing as Jedi Knights and Generals of the Grand Army of the Republic.

The wars proved to be a great distractor, for better or worse. He and Anakin were constantly dispatched for days, weeks, sometimes months on end and often to the outer rim. It afforded no time for Obi-Wan to dwell on his broken heart over Padme, but it also distracted him from looking too closely on her interaction with Anakin. Whenever they returned to Coruscant to report to the Council, Obi-Wan said nothing when Anakin would steal away and be gone all night. He suspected he knew where he was going, and he deliberately avoided any confirmation one way or another. 

Obi-Wan knew there was something still happening between them. He convinced himself that he was oblivious. He convinced himself that it was because he did not want to rob the war of a formidable warrior if Anakin was expelled.

It was easy to dance around the topic, to play dumb, and to ignore his own feelings on the matter so long as duty kept the barrier between him and Padme. But then came the orders for the two Jedi knights to escort Senator Amidala to negotiations in the Q’oor System in the outer rim. This system was caught in the middle of a tug-o-war between the Separatists and the Republic, neither able to convince the Q’oors to choose a side. And yet, they had a vast amount of valuable ore on their planet that would serve in building more weapons and warships.

The only diplomat that the Q’oors seemed even remotely interested in listening to, was the Senator of Naboo. They were aware of her stance in the senate, that she was critical of the Separatists, but also of the Republican Army itself. Her interests were not in any party, but in ideas of peace and democracy. She had also become familiar with the Q’oors when she was young, before she was queen, when she went on relief missions to planets that neighbored Naboo.

Padme was already on Naboo speaking long distance with the Q’oor leader, Ubo Nor, but it was delicate and could only be finalized in person.

Enter the Jedi.

Ordinarily, two Jedi Knights would not be sent at once to escort one politician to a neighboring system, but the journey was a perilous one. The stakes too high. The space between was littered with blockades, infested with enemy fighters and starships who would not pass up the opportunity for a politician bargaining chip. Or to stop her from making these negotiations. To say nothing of the risk that they would invade Q’oor and take the resources by force. They were never above occupation.

Obi-Wan volunteered to fly them to Naboo from Coruscant where they were to rendezvous with Senator Amidala and they were given authorization to land and await the senator. They were both in their armor, as they were going to be passing through a war zone. When the ship touched down and the engines were shut off, Obi-Wan looked to his friend.

The co-pilot seat was empty, Anakin was already on his feet and opening the hatch, letting in the sweet smells of Naboo. All the way here he could sense Anakin’s anxiety, no matter how cool he tried to play it. For his own part, Obi-Wan felt surprisingly disconnected in their mission. After all, that was all it was, like any other they had been on in the past few months of this war. 

R2-D2 whirred from the cargo, following Anakin down the ramp as obediently as he always had. When Anakin graduated to Jedi Knight, Padme had gifted him the droid, and

Obi-Wan played along that it was a friendly gesture and a symbol of gratitude for protecting her from the assassin. It was obviously more, as R2-D2 seemed to take it upon himself to stay close to Anakin.

Obi-Wan actively didn’t think about the time that Artoo had been a courier for more sinful messages from her.

While Anakin and Artoo waited at the base of the ramp, Obi-Wan stayed at the top of it, calmly admiring the scenery from there. They had landed on an elaborate mosaic of stone that was outlined in mossy green, and in the distance were the green domes of Theed, looking as if they were floating on the clouds of waterfalls. The sky was the purest blue of any planet in the galaxy, only a few perfect puffs of clouds along the horizon.

He had almost forgotten how beautiful this place was. He had no time to admire it in his youth when they were in the middle of an invasion. 

Anakin was pacing a little, and Artoo was reeling back and forth in an attempt to follow. If droids could get dizzy, then he certainly was. Captain Typho had told them to wait for her at the landing platform so that they could depart immediately.

“She’s late,” Anakin said so quietly Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if he was meant to hear it.

“She’s a politician,” Obi-Wan said with a shrug. It would not have been the first time they were kept waiting by some diplomat or another. And that was all she was, another diplomat.

Anakin stopped in his pacing and looked up at his former master, head low, eyes sharp with disapproval.

Obi-Wan raised his shoulders innocently. “Correct me if I am wrong.”

“She’ll be here.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that she will be here. Eventually.” Obi-Wan idly stroked a finger on his mustache. “And as politicians go, she will be in an awful hurry to get where she’s going. I suspect she will not be pleased when we tell her what route we intend to take.”

“She’ll agree once we explain it to her,” Anakin said confidently.

“I’m not so sure…” Obi-Wan murmured. “A crucial part of negotiations are timing…”

“She’ll agree. You’ll see.”

Obi-Wan folded his arms. “Why do I have the feeling we won’t have much say in the matter?”

“You don’t know her.”

It was bold for Anakin to insinuate that he knew her better than Obi-Wan did. Whether or not it was true, Obi-Wan had to pretend that he didn’t know how much time his former padawan stole away with her. Maybe Anakin did know her better, Obi-Wan never dared to spend too much time with her. Anakin knew her in a way Obi-Wan never would and he had to pretend he didn’t care.

He watched Anakin curiously, gauging his posture and energy. He was anxious, but he was in control. Obi-Wan felt a pang of envy—it stung every once in awhile—to know that Anakin and Padme had that connection, to look forward to seeing one another, and the luxury of missing each other when apart. Obi-Wan was not entitled to either of those things, he had made his choice. He chose the Order.

And he was at peace with that. He found some joy in allowing them to be happy together, and he could live through the doses of loneliness that occasionally racked him when things became too quiet and he was not occupied by war. He was content with his choice.

That is, until a speeder halted in front of them and Padme stepped out with only a small bag and C3PO shuffling behind her. She smiled broadly to Anakin, the Naboo sun glinting off the edges of her tightly bound hair. She was dressed for the field, in knee high boots, tight pants, and a tactical jacket. She looked prepared for anything. She looked beautiful.

Anakin’s entire persona melted at the sight of her, even though he made himself stand taller. He nodded respectfully to her, and Obi-Wan wasn’t oblivious to the small smirk on the young man’s face. Obi-Wan himself wished he could duck into the ship and pretend he didn’t notice her arrival, but it was too late.

“Milady,” Anakin said smoothly, taking the bag from her hand.

Their eyes were locked, even as they walked together up the ramp of the ship, R2-D2 behind them.

“Hello again, Senator,” Obi-Wan said coolly. He felt quite pleased with himself for regaining some indifference to seeing her again.

That broke her gaze from Anakin’s and she stopped in front of Obi-Wan as Anakin continued on into the ship to deposit her things in the aft compartment. The breeze picked up just so that it carried the scent of her towards Obi-Wan, and he came undone.

That fragrance triggered every intimate memory of her, from the way she felt to how she tasted. Worst of all, it reminded him how much he treasured her company and how badly he had missed it. How he felt he never had enough of it. She was staring at him as if seeing him for the first time, confusion deep in the brown of her eyes.

“Hello again, Master Kenobi…” she put on a smile and it seemed forced.

“We need to go,” Anakin’s voice sounded from within the ship.

Padme blinked rapidly and walked past Obi-Wan without a word. He expected the usual professional greeting, a friendly but distant exchange, if anything. That was exactly what he got, and it left him cold. C3PO was just now making his way inside as well, and Artoo whistled loudly at him.

“Well, if it isn’t R2-D2!” Threepio annunciated in his usual, perfect way and set a gold hand atop the astromech’s dome. “How are you my little friend?”

Artoo let out a series of beeps and whistles and trills and C3PO straightened up. “Oh my! That is a little too much information and none of your business! Really, you should have been programmed not to gossip…”

Droid conversations were not exactly the most titillating of noises, and frankly, Obi-Wan had other matters on his mind. He hit the button, pulling in the ramp and closing the hatch. Padme had taken her seat in one of the passenger chairs in the cockpit, C3PO sitting dutifully beside her.

Obi-Wan moved to the navigation, to pull up a hologram map of the system. The planets and stars were displayed in generic, translucent spheres, but the position of them were recognizable to anyone familiar with the different systems.

“There are reports of a Separatist fleet in the system between here and our destination,” Obi-Wan explained without looking to Padme, though he was speaking to her. “We will have to take a wider route around them to avoid detection and to see you safely to Q’oor… It will take longer, but it will be the path of least resistance.”

Padme studied the map, her eyes following the drawn line of light that demonstrated their flight path. She was frowning.

“Ubo Nor made it very clear that he wouldn’t wait that long. The sooner we get there, the better.”

Obi-Wan met Anakin’s eye, the younger man’s glare practically screaming Don’t say it.

“Then what are you proposing, my lady?” Anakin’s submission was laced with salt.

She leveled her gaze on him, fearless. “We go through it.”

“Through it.” Obi-Wan had to repeat it. “With all due respect—”

“The negotiations with the Q’oor cannot fail, Master Kenobi,” Padme was looking to him now. “The delay in my arrival could unravel the negotiations I have been working at for months with Ubo Nor. I am willing to take the risk.”

“It’s an unnecessary risk—” Obi-Wan kept his voice calm.

“I know when to take risks for the sake of protecting democracy.”

“Padme,” he spoke more sternly.

He said her name and for the first time she wavered, hesitating, but recovered. “I’ve made my decision. We’re going though.”

Obi-Wan took in a small breath, to expel the creeping of a temper that threatened to rear its head and he looked to Anakin.

“Well?”

“Well what?” Anakin played dumb, and very unconvincingly.

“You’re unusually quiet in the conversation of risk.”

Anakin was suppressing a smile. “I agree with her, Master. Besides, if I’m flying, I can get us through it without a scratch.”

“I’ve heard that before,” Obi-Wan said dubiously.

“In hyperdrive I can fly us past the enemy fleet and past the Q’oor system, then back track. It’ll only cost us a couple of hours. But coming from the other direction there shouldn’t be any conflict.”

“ _Shouldn’t_ be?’”

“I’m pretty sure.

Obi-Wan raised his brows.

“I’m positive,” Anakin went on.

“I think it’s a sound plan,” Padme spoke up, giving the final decision. “If it will satisfy you, Master Kenobi, we’ll fly past the Separatist Fleet. I would rather sacrifice a couple of hours than several.”

Both Anakin and Padme were looking at him now and he glanced between them, a long silence falling. “What? Obviously it isn’t up to me. I’ll follow your suicide mission.

Someone has got to make sure you get out of it.”

They were both mad. They always had been, and more than ever he realized what bonded them together.

Anakin let out a sigh, pretending not to be absolutely pleased with getting his way. 

“All right, then,” said the younger Jedi as he hopped into the pilot seat. “Let’s do this.”

They took off from Naboo, and into open space. Once he set in the coordinates, Anakin punched it into hyperdrive, the engines blaring around them. He kept his eyes on the nav controls, calculating their distance and trajectory. When they emerged from lightspeed, they were surrounded by asteroids, and patrolling in the field was a swarm of droid fighters from the Confederacy Navy.

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan blurted out, a hand bracing on the control panel beside him when they nearly crashed right into a large asteroid.

“Look out!” C3PO shouted needlessly, accompanied by alarmed beeps from R2-D2.

Anakin said nothing, all of his focus on piloting. He jerked the yoke and their ship made a sharp right turn, missing a massive rock by a hair. There weren’t many things that made Obi-Wan’s heart stop, but close calls while flying were one of them. To Anakin it was as easy as turning a corner.

They clearly hadn’t been detected yet or they would have been blasted out of space. Their ship flew along the surface of the giant asteroid, circling around it and out of sight of the Separatist vessels. In one swoop, the ship dove into a particularly large crater, landing on the solid rock, the engines shut off, the lights out, save for a few blinking on the console.

Both of the Jedi could sense that they were undetected, it only made sense for Anakin to land them somewhere to hide. Of course, that raised more problems. It was supposed to be free and clear when they dropped out of hyperdrive on the other side of Q’oor, there weren’t supposed to be enemy ships, and now they were forced to sit it out and wait

in a crater on an asteroid. Dooku must have had the planet surrounded to prevent these negotiations from happening.

Obi-Wan knew he didn’t need to say it. It was all apparent in how tight Anakin’s lips were, the white of his knuckles on his hand as it gripped the yoke, even though they were

no longer moving, the leather of his robotic hand squeaking a little.

“Well….” Obi-Wan said quietly. “You were right about one thing, Anakin…”

“Don’t.”

“We did get through…”

“Please stop.”

“…without a scratch.”

Anakin breathed out loudly through his nose. “I hate you.”

When his own temper threatened to flair up, Obi-Wan often resorted to sarcasm. It was like loosening a valve, to let out the pressure. He resisted the urge to sigh loudly, and instead calmed his breathing and looked over his shoulder to where Padme sat. Her head was rested in her hand, fingers rubbing at her brow, her gaze hard with thought.

“We will find a way to get you there on time, Milady,” Obi-Wan felt confident.

“I should have just pushed through the asteroid field. There can’t be too many Separatists in here…” Anakin seemed to be speaking to himself, his eyes peering out the window towards the visible stars.

“Now what are we going to do?” Padme was looking to the back of Anakin’s head.

Obi-Wan spoke before his former padawan had a chance at another risky plan. “We wait. The enemy may simply be passing through this field and we’ll have an opportunity to move unseen. If we fly now they’ll shoot us down.”

Anakin’s shoulders rose and fell heavily. “I’m sorry, Padme…” he said over his shoulder.

The apology was deeply personal, it was evident in his tone and the guilt on his face.

“I agreed to the risk as much as you did…” she replied gently, but there was clear worry on her face when she looked to Obi-Wan, when Anakin couldn’t see. “How long do you think we’ll be here?”

“Hours, possibly,” Obi-Wan looked out at the star field, to distract himself from looking too closely at her. “I’m afraid there isn’t much to do but wait in silence and darkness. This would be an opportune time to get some rest, milady. We will wake you if anything changes.”

“I don’t know if I can sleep under the circumstances…”

“If it would please you, I know more than five thousand entertaining stories and anecdotes that I could regale you with!” Threepio chimed in. “My humorous stories are more than able to help the time pass much more quickly!”

“No thank you, Threepio…” Anakin sighed.

“Ah.” The protocol droid turned his eternally wide eyes around the cockpit. “Perhaps you would like to hear some of the indigenous tribal chanting of the—”

“Silence will do,” Obi-Wan said abruptly. He had to wonder why C3PO was even needed for this mission. But, he did have a more important question for his former padawan.

“You built that droid?”

Anakin looked over his shoulder to C3PO, who stared with that blank expression back at him. Anakin then looked to Obi-Wan and nodded. “I had a lot of scrap parts to play with as a kid, most of them from trashed protocol droids I found in Watto’s junkyard. All the programming was still intact, I just gave him a body.”

“For which I am eternally grateful, Master Anakin.”

“And I made sure the off switch was easy to access…” Anakin said much more quietly, a little bit of shame in his eye… and yet there was that smirk.

Obi-Wan smiled at the temptation to utilize it and he caught a smile on Padme’s face as well. They all fell silent, an occasional beep of the controls, or Artoo, the whir of gears when Threepio so much as turned his head or moved a limb. Padme sighed, Anakin cleared his throat, Obi-Wan scratched at his beard.

“Maybe I will rest…” Padme finally said, rising from her chair. “There isn’t much else to do. You can wake me the moment anything changes.”

She looked between them both, making it clear that it wasn’t a request.

“As you wish, my lady…” Obi-Wan bowed his head to her, their eyes meeting for just a moment. She blushed, and walked away towards the aft compartment that was separated by the door to the cockpit.

His heart was hammering. She blushed. That small hint of color in her cheeks spoke volumes and he wanted to scream in joy and rage. He had hoped the spark between them had been snuffed by the length of time that passed, that her affair with Anakin would overtake it all. It hurt to think he could be replaced—by his own padawan, no less—but he wanted the closure, the escape.

And then she blushed, because of him.

He felt a pain in his chest that he knew he needed to rid himself of. Drawing in a slow, deep breath, he somehow managed to keep his roiling emotions from appearing on the surface. He slouched a bit in his chair, lifting his boots to prop them on the console, ankles crossed, arms folded. He closed his eyes.

“You’re going to sleep, too?” Anakin’s indignant voice broke through.

Obi-Wan didn’t open his eyes. “You got us in this mess, you can take the first watch.”

“You make it sound like we’re going to be here for days. I think we will only be here an hour. At the most.”

“Then you can wake us in an hour.” Obi-Wan said simply.

He did not intend to sleep. Not really. He needed to meditate, to cleanse his thoughts and rid himself of the ache inside. He didn’t want to think about all the things he wished he could say to her, or the ways he wished he could just hold her in his arms. Or just feel the silk of her hair between his fingers.

But if he assumed the meditative pose, Anakin would more easily sense that there was some sort of turmoil. No, Obi-Wan needed to do what he did best and affect an air of dignity and calm, always. When his eyes were closed, however, he began to nod off. 

Unfortunately, with sleep comes dreams, in which not even the Jedi are safe from. 


	10. Chapter 10

Padme knew Obi-Wan was going to be on this mission, but she could not have been prepared for what happened to her to see him again. Everything inside of her seemed to jolt to life, a clarity bursting into her mind that she had not felt in months. She wanted to throw her arms around him, to pull him in close and never let go—or never let him let go of her. What really stunned her was how he changed his appearance.

His hair was short, just as it was when she dreamt of him. Was it even a dream at all?

For the first time since before her secret marriage she was alone with the two Jedi, the secrets rife between them. It made the room feel so full it was hard to breathe. She couldn’t suppress her anxiety, which she knew the two Jedi could sense. Fortunately, she had the mission as an excuse for her nerves. Anakin never had to know that she and Obi-Wan had spent nights together, or that she still had feelings for him. Obi-Wan didn’t have to know that she was married to Anakin, or that she regretted it every day. 

And now all three of them were stuck together in this ship for who knew how long, until it was safe to fly. She escaped to the aft compartment where she stretched out on a cot, lying on her side and facing the wall. It had already been a long day spent on the comm with Ubo Nor and Supreme Chancellor Palpatine regarding the negotiations, she was tired and knew she needed to be rested and fresh for when they reached Q’oor. It made sense to rest. And it was also a good excuse to escape.

When she closed her eyes, she wasn’t alone. Arms encircled her, pulling her deeper into sleep, but coaxing her to rest, making her feel safe and happy. It was Obi-Wan, she didn’t have to ask or look. She whispered his name—begged. She missed him and everything in her was pulling him to her.

“Padme…” She felt his voice in her.

There was no up or down here. They melded together, filled each other and warmed each other. A part of her knew it was just a dream, none of it was real, but she surrendered to it. All she wanted was him. She wanted all of him. Only then did she feel like herself and everything made sense again.

“Don’t let go of me, Obi-Wan…” she pleaded. “Don’t let me slip away again…”

It was like she had been falling for years and only now landed in the safety net.

“Don’t be afraid, Padme…” his voice was soothing, and its surety almost convinced her. “I’m here.”

He was all around her, or maybe she was all around him. It excited her, electrified her, even though there was no physicality that she could identify. He burned through her whole being, caressing her down to her soul. When she trembled with pleasure, she felt the same in him. It was coiling deep inside, and she pulsed with desire that enveloped her. She was close, so close—

“ _Padme!_ ” 

A voice broke in and she lurched into wakefulness, breathless and hot to the touch. Anakin was leaning over her, his hands on her shoulders. She was still lying on her cot on the ship.

“Shh… It’s okay….” He was whispering and he looked panicked.

She was shaking, her body reacting to the vivid dream, throbbing and sensitive. The last thing she wanted right now was his touch, let alone his eyes on her. But he was so concerned.

“Was it a nightmare?” he asked quietly. “You were making noise, but I didn’t sense any—”

“I’m fine…” she had to lick her lips. “It wasn’t a nightmare…”

He breathed out with relief and glanced over his shoulder. No one was near but Artoo, and Anakin stole a kiss. She let him kiss her, afraid to pull away. At the very least, it reassured her that he couldn’t read her mind, though the guilt was nauseating.

He cradled her face, the leather of his gloved durasteel hand a little rough. “It’s okay, you can admit you were dreaming about me…” He said with a playful smirk.

Her cheeks were burning, unintentional confirmation to him. She smiled a little, nervously, but admitted nothing.

“I always dream about you, too…” He said and kissed her again, this time a little longer with need, and she gripped the front of his tabard. The longer he kissed her, the more she forgot the dream. She was slipping…

“You might want to strap in,” he said suddenly and moved away, disappearing back towards the cockpit.

“What? Anakin!” She had to shake herself out the sudden stupor that came over her and she clamored off the cot to follow.

* * *

  
The last thing he expected when he fell asleep was to be plunged into a sexually charged, incorporeal embrace with Padme.

_Again._

In his dreams, that was when he often lost control. It was intense, almost desperate, and ended suddenly when she was pulled away.

He woke with a small grunt, painfully hard and pulsing all over. By some miracle, the pilot seat was empty and Anakin wasn’t there. If his former padawan _ever_ caught him with an erection on a mission, he would never hear the end of it. And if Anakin knew it had to do with Padme, it would be much less amusing for all of them.

He dropped his feet from where they were rested on the console, an arm across his lap, eyes closing to will away the rush of blood that had so suddenly gone to his groin. Oh, this was humiliating.

He was preoccupied by that dream for other reasons, though. She spoke this time, and the words echoed softly in his mind still.

_Don’t let go. Don’t let me slip away._

It sounded like a cry for help.

“You’re awake….” Anakin dropped back into the pilot sleep. “Good. Because we’re about to move.”

He kept his arm on his lap, to conceal everything as he looked out the window to the asteroid-filled space around them. There were still droid patrol ships drifting around.

“It looks like there are more of them, Anakin…” he said ominously.

Anakin was starting up the engines, and that was more than enough to return the blood to the rest of Obi-Wan’s body.

“It’s dangerous enough as it is to fly through an asteroid field, let alone one full of droid starfighters!” Obi-Wan was strapping in and readying the guns.

Padme was back in her seat and also buckling in, her cheeks red. Obi-Wan made the mistake of looking back at her, their eyes meeting for just an instant and he knew. She had the same dream.

“I got a plan,” said Anakin. “All I need to do is keep these asteroids between us and the droids. Think about it, Master… They didn’t even notice us dropping out of hyperspace. If their sensors are that limited, they’ll need visuals on us to know we’re even here, and with all these rocks, they won’t know the difference.”

Anakin was a masterful pilot. If anyone could manage that sort of feat without getting smashed between two drifting asteroids, it would be him.

“This is a bad idea…”

“Trust me.”

He couldn’t even count how many times he had heard Anakin say that… But he couldn’t deny that they were alive for this long because he had trusted his former padawan. The engines were on, but they were still idle. Anakin’s grip was firm but relaxed on the yoke, his eyes keenly looking out the window. He was reaching out, sensing with the Force, and Obi-Wan did the same.

The droid fighter closest to them was slowly flying away at a leisurely, cautious pace to navigate the erratic field of rocks. An asteroid that was three times the size of their own ship came drifting by and Anakin fired the jets, but only for a matter of seconds. They lifted off out of the crater, with just enough momentum to match the speed of the drifting asteroid. If they began to pick up speed, Anakin sparked the forward thrusters to slow them down. So far, they were still undetected.

The corner of Anakin’s mouth was pulling into a self-satisfied smirk. “See? Just like Bahgnasis.”

“This isn’t really comparable…”

“Bahgnasis?” Padme asked, her breath short, her hands gripping her chair tightly.

“A mission we were on a couple years ago,” said Anakin.

“It’s not a terribly interesting story…” Obi-Wan cut in, tearing his eyes from the asteroid field just long enough to cast a glance towards Anakin.

“We had to sneak past some raiders who had stolen a herd of kolbytes and we hid behind the animals… Just like this. They’re big, but very low to the ground.”

The memory made Obi-Wan tug at his tunic, his brow furrowed. “We ended up so caked in mug we could hardly move.”

Anakin chuckled. “We learned that Bahgnassian clay takes literal hours to wash off. We had to soak for half a standard day to get it off. Obi-Wan had so much of it in his beard, and he still refused to shave it off…”

“I told you it wasn’t necessary to…” It had taken years of growing and grooming, and Obi-Wan was obstinate that it had nothing to do with vanity.

Now Padme was giggling too. It was hard to stay grumpy about it when he heard her laugh.

“Anyway, this is nothing like Bahgnasis, and—Anakin!”

“I got it.”

Another droid fighter was closing in, but at a slow pace. It didn’t know they were there, but it would see them at any moment. There were no other craters to dive into, and no other rocks between them to hide behind. At least not at that moment. There was one of a decent size drifting their way, and Obi-Wan and Anakin saw it at the same time.

“That one?” Anakin nodded to it.

“That one.”

The thing about rocks floating in the vacuum of space is that they do not require much to move in one direction or the other. Just a little push. Anakin and Obi-Wan both raised one hand, the Force moving through them and to the rock in front of them. Just a little combined energy from them both, and the rock’s trajectory shifted. Granted, that little bit of spent Force energy took some effort from Obi-Wan, or any other Jedi for that matter, when it was like breathing for Anakin. The rock’s shift in direction wasn’t drastic, not in a way that would draw attention, but enough to put it between them and the droid starfighter that had appeared.

“We’re not that far from the edge of the field…” Obi-Wan was looking at the nav computer.

“Won’t they see us then?” Padme pointed out.

“As soon as we’re out of these asteroids I can shake them.” Anakin replied without a beat.

“Droids lack the intuition for long pursuits,” said Obi-Wan.

“Well… Battle droids, perhaps,” C3PO said quietly. “I myself am programmed to be quite intuitive, if I do say so myself.”

They all ignored him.

“It’s clearing up,” Anakin announced. His fingers flipped a row of switches, opening up the vents and preparing to fire on full thrusters.

Obi-Wan was ready at the guns.

As the asteroid field thinned out before them and they could see open space, they could also see the droid fighter that was screaming directly towards them, head on. It fired, rocking the ship violently and strangling them in their straps. Obi-Wan fired and the fighter exploded into a burst of flame and debris.

“That wasn’t so bad,” Obi-Wan smiled a little, relieved.

Of course, he always cursed himself with saying that. The ship jolted again and the sensors lit up with fighters on their tail. Anakin fired all engines, hurling them away from the swarm that was coming after them, flying in zig zags and spins to make them a more difficult target.

“Does this ship have other guns?” Padme was beginning to unstrap herself, ready to fight.

“No. Not needed.” Anakin’s hands flew over the controls. “Just hang on.”

The ship turned at a 90 degree angle upward in relation to their pursuers and over the tight cluster of droid fighters. They tracked and followed. He was flying back towards the asteroid field.

“Now what are you doing?” Obi-Wan asked, sick of the sight of rocks.

Anakin didn’t reply. He was far too deep in concentration. He slowed the ship down, and they were getting rattled around from the droid blasters that skimmed the hull or hit them directly. Then, there was a massive jolt that would have thrown them all if they weren’t buckled in—though there was a clatter of metal as Threepio tipped out of his seat with a scream.

“We’re hit,” Obi-Wan announced.

“Oh, thanks, couldn’t tell.”

“Whatever you’re doing, Anakin, now is the time to do it…”

“Almost….”

They were still being barraged by blasts and Obi-Wan watched the sensor as the swarm drew closer and closer to them. Anakin was flying them at another massive rock. That was when he knew what his friend was planning and Ob-Wan couldn’t help a smile.

“That one?” asked Obi-Wan.

“That one,” Anakin grinned.

Their ship swept under it, and together they gave the rock a mighty push with the Force. This was bigger than the last, and it took far more effort than before. But it was enough. The asteroid flew down into their wake so suddenly, the droids did not have the time or the room to evade. They pelted into it in small, rapid puffs of fire. Anakin snapped the ship back around, narrowly missing other asteroids in the area, and Obi-Wan destroyed the stragglers in a spray of blaster fire.

They flew out of the field and to freedom. Next stop: Q’oor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. So. Writing action is hard. I’m still studying up on my Star Wars terminology and technology, so if I am vague (or straight up incorrect) about anything, I apologize and welcome corrections! We’re all just here for fun any way, so hopefully it isn’t that egregious. (Let’s face it, this is all me self-indulging and you guys are here to watch. That’s fanfiction for ya.)


	11. Chapter 11

The rest of the journey to Q’oor was mostly uneventful, and the negotiations themselves were highly successful. Much to the chagrin of Count Dooku and his blockade, the Q’oor system agreed to join the Republic and accept protection from the Republic’s Clone Army. Senator Amidala’s work was done, and she was sent home again.

Despite the happy ending to the mission, Obi-Wan could not shake a niggling bad feeling. The mission went well, and Padme was still full of unease. It was impossible for him to ignore her, try as he might. If she was fretful, so was he. But why was she? And what had those words meant in that dream?

_Don’t let go. Don’t let me slip away._

They landed back on the same moss-covered landing pad at Theed in the morning, birds singing in all directions, their ship a little worse than when it landed here last time. It was now pocked with burn marks and streaks of turbolaser fire. The two Jedi and two droids followed Padme as she walked down the ramp and into the sunlight. The Jedi had since removed their armor.

“I can’t thank you both enough for getting me to Q’oor,” she looked to them both, a beautiful though diplomatic smile on her face. “Thank you, my Jedi protectors.”

“We are only happy to serve, Milady,” Obi-Wan returned the smile.

“Would you be able to stay for dinner?” she looked between them, cautious not to let her gaze linger on one more than the other. “Or will the council be pulling you away again to some other peril?”

“No peril,” Anakin answered a little too quickly. “We have nowhere to be.”

“We must report to the Jedi council,” Obi-Wan calmly pointed out, casting a reminding glance to Anakin.

“We can transmit the report, they don’t need it in person,” Anakin countered. “Besides… Our ship’s been pretty badly damaged… it’ll take me at least a day to repair it.”

Obi-Wan knew as well as he did it would take him all but an hour to fix whatever minor damage they had sustained. Rather than pointing that out, however, Obi-Wan followed his own motives in playing along. “Oh… Well, in that case, it seems as though we have no choice but to stay at least as late as dinner.”

Padme almost laughed, and instead pressed her lips together. “I promise I won’t keep you a moment longer.”

She took out her commlink to call Captain Typho to send a speeder to come and get her.

“I suppose I should get to work then,” Anakin acted resigned to his fate, though he was more than pleased. “Come on, Artoo. I’ll need your help assessing the damage…” He ascended back up the ramp and into the ship, the astromech droid whistling along at his heels.

That left Obi-Wan standing beside C3PO. He took this moment of silence to contemplate. That ominous feeling had not gone away. Especially with Padme’s silence as she looked off towards the scenery of Naboo. She was tense, like someone on the brink of a scream or tears.

He needed to test the water without being indecorous. “He’s very pleased to see you,” he said quietly.

She looked curiously to him. So he elaborated.

“Anakin.”

The name made her shudder. Not physically, but in defensive ripples in the life force around her. For being so in love, the young Jedi made her anxious. That was all Obi-Wan needed to know. 

“I’m always pleased to see him too,” she said simply, and he could sense there was truth in it.

Something was wrong and this was no place to speak about it. So he affected his usual friendly, but neutral air with a polite smile. “I’m about as useful here in repairing a ship as a protocol droid…” he glanced to C3PO. “May I accompany you, Senator?”

She smiled, this time it was genuine. “Of course, Master Kenobi.”

The speeder was approaching and the sound of its engine drew Anakin back out onto the ramp, a grease rag in his hand, a plasma tool in the other. Obi-Wan looked up at him from the bottom of the ramp.

“Well?”

“Just as I thought, Master, it will take a _least_ a day…”

“Oh, that is too bad…” Obi-Wan tsked. “Keep me updated on the repairs, please…”

“Of course… Wait, where are you going?”

The speeder had arrived and Obi-Wan was carrying Padme’s bag towards it. He paused and looked to Anakin. “I won’t be of any use here, will I?”

“No, you usually aren’t… But what use is there for you to go with the Senator?”

“Are you saying you can’t handle being on your own?”

He could feel his apprentice bristling to be left behind.

“I just don’t see why you get to go,” Anakin said stiffly.

“I lack your skill and expertise…” Obi-Wan held his casual air, but he wasn’t ignoring the agitation that was prickling the air around Anakin. “Don’t worry, my friend, you’ll be called for dinner.”

Anakin couldn’t argue. It wasn’t unusual for Obi-Wan to end up indoors and comfortable for the sake of diplomacy while his former padawan did the dirty work. That was often their preferred way, Anakin was not happy if he was not busy. But it was strikingly different with Padme involved.  
  


* * *

Padme didn’t have a home or an apartment of her own at Naboo, not beyond her childhood home with her parents or their lake house, which was often unoccupied. It was where she often went, to be out of the crowds of the capital. 

Such official positions as a senator kept her busy and away. Often her duty felt like an escape from other things… It felt like an escape from Anakin. But why should she feel that way towards the man she agreed to marry with hardly a second thought? Because she knew that every time he looked at her, she could not stay away from him.

So when Obi-Wan asked to accompany her, she felt relieved for the first time since this mission started. It finally seemed as though her old friend wasn’t avoiding her. Maybe they would still be friends, as he promised her they would. 

The speeder took them as far as the dock, where they were required to take a gondola across the lake to get to the house. Once there, Obi-Wan carried her bag still. She couldn’t help glancing to him as they wended their way into the ornate building. This was her favorite place to escape the world, but it had been shaded with her history here with Anakin. Obi-Wan quietly admired the place, but did not have any particular interest in anything. That was typical of the Jedi master, mild interest in everything, fascination with nothing. When they reached the foyer, Threepio took her bag and shuffled away to dispose of it in her room.

The staff at this house was minimal, only about a dozen to take care of the upkeep of the place, with a handful of droids to help. There was no missing the curious looks on their faces when a new Jedi was stepping onto the premises. Padme didn’t want to think about the gossip that probably churned here ever since Anakin’s stay.

One of the staff, Firo, approached, her hands clasped attentively. “Is there anything I can get you, milady?”

“Can you bring some wine?”

Firo bowed and swept out of the room.

Obi-Wan slipped his hands into his sleeves. “Wine in the morning?”

“I could use it,” she admitted quietly. “I’d like to go get refreshed. You’re welcome to make yourself comfortable, Master Kenobi…”

It felt unnatural to not call him Obi-Wan, but she remained guarded. Before he could reply she was already escaping to her room to change into one of her dresses and out of her field costume. She opted for something loose, but elegant, the only bare skin showing was her shoulders, everything else draped in turquoise and red. She kept her hair down, save for some loose strands pulled back and wound into an onyx clamp.

It took her half an hour to change and she found Obi-Wan at the balcony, the glass of red wine in his hand. She never did see him refuse a drink. Firo was there, holding a tray with another glass and a bottle. She handed Padme her own glass and slipped away, leaving Padme alone with Obi-Wan. He wasn’t looking, so she stole the moment to swallow down half of her glass in a less-than-ladylike way.

They were quiet, listening to the birds and the distant hush of the lake shore, the rustle of the breeze in the wind. This was the spot where she had married Anakin, where life as she had known it ended, where she had betrayed herself and Obi-Wan without understanding why. Her throat felt tight.

Obi-Wan finally turned and looked at her, his eyes soft, but concerned. “I hope we can finally talk…”

Talk about what though? There were a million things to be said between them, and she didn’t know what the least painful was.

“Of course…” she was a little breathless. 

He set his glass atop the stone parapet of the balcony, turning his whole body to face her now. “I have sensed that you are uneasy. I want you to know, that… It’s alright for you to love someone else. I couldn’t bear it if you felt any shame or sense of wrongdoing just because you and I were once—” 

Her breath hitched as she waited for him to put a label to it.

“—well, anyway, I was the one who pushed you away and made the choice. All I want is your happiness, Padme…”

He spoke so calm, so level, even with such guilt and worry in his eyes. He could see through her so easily, and yet there was so much more that was invisible, even to her.

“And….” He continued, breaking the heavy silence. “And I know it’s Anakin. It’s alright.”

Was he trying to give his blessing? The stupid girl in her wanted to see him jealous, to have him fight for her. She never could ask to be rescued. But then…. Why did she need to be rescued? Anakin loved her, and she cared about him. That was a good thing, wasn’t it? The confusion was festering inside again.

“Padme… What’s wrong?”

He inched towards her, his voice gentle. She realized she hadn’t said a word.

“I’m frightened,” that was the only thing she understood, and to say it made her tremble. 

“Of what?”

“Of… Anakin. My feelings for him…”

He inhaled slowly and nodded. It was as if he was accepting a death sentence with his usual aplomb.

“I don’t love him.”

The defeat on his face blended into confusion, but he didn’t interrupt, which she was grateful for. It was difficult enough as it was to form clear thoughts on this, to admit a truth she could barely grab onto.

“I care about him, Obi-Wan… I always have, and I think I always will. But I don’t _love_ him.”

Saying it out loud was agonizing, but the weight was lifting off her heart to be able to say it—to be able to understand it.

“Oh, Obi-Wan…” her chest hurt. “I’m a terrible person! He loves me with all of his being, and I’ve said it back to him. I meant it when I said it, but right now… I’m afraid to be near him. I’m afraid of how much he loves me.”

Obi-Wan showed no reaction to what she was saying, aside from the small parting of his lips and the deep crease of a frown.

“When I’m with him, I’m afraid that I can’t give back what he gives me. But then… I feel so differently. When I’m with him I’m myself, but nothing else matters, I don’t want to say no… When I’m away from him, it’s like I’m suddenly sober…”

Still, Obi-Wan said nothing, and she fought back tears.

“I’m not making any sense, I know…. I’m so ashamed, I just… I don’t understand what’s wrong with me…” She dropped her gaze. She couldn’t bear looking into his neutral face any longer. It was like looking into a mirror that reflected back how rotten she was.

Then his hand closed around hers, prying the glass from her grip and setting it aside. He pulled her against him. She shrank into his arms, burying her face into that heavy cloak. Only now did she realize that she didn’t need him to respond, she needed to be held. He didn’t hate her, she felt it and she was finally safe. At last the tears flowed and she couldn’t stop them. All the confusion and fear of these past months finally reared their ugly head.

“Everything will be all right, Padme…” his voice was low and soothing. 

She had faith in his words, but she didn’t know how to believe him.

“I fear there is more happening here than we realize…” his tone sounded graver now. 

More? She reluctantly pulled away from him so that she could see his face. “What do you mean?”

Suddenly he lifted his head and stepped away from her, the breeze from the lake passing between them and making her shudder.

“I left Artoo back at the ship to run diagnostics…”

She heard Anakin before she saw him, and she immediately understood why Obi-Wan pulled away. She turned her back towards her husband to wipe her eyes and cheeks, pretending she was just reaching for her glass.

Anakin stopped beside them, and when she looked at him his eyes were on her with worry. He could always sense when something was wrong, the pitfall of being involved with a Jedi.

“Did I miss something?” he looked to Obi-Wan now.

“Politics,” Obi-Wan picked up his half empty glass of wine and put it into Anakin’s hand. “If you will excuse me, Senator… I must send my report to the Jedi Council.” He gave a charming smile and walked away.

He just left her alone with Anakin. She somehow felt betrayed, even though there was no danger here. Anakin, as always, did a passable job acting indifferent towards her, up until they were alone. One glance over his shoulder and he moved in, slipping his arm around her waist and pulling her in tight.

* * *

Of course Obi-Wan intended to send his report to the council, but that could wait a moment longer. When he left Anakin with Padme on the balcony, he did not go much further. There was a prime spot beside the terrace doors where there was a pillar and some curtains and he easily slipped among them. He was adept at closing himself off from the Force, just enough to make him difficult to sense, especially when someone was distracted… As Anakin was now. He could see them through the glass, and Anakin wasted no time in taking her in his arms.

It made Obi-Wan’s jaw tighten painfully. It wasn’t his place to get jealous. Jealousy was the shadow of greed. Greed meant he claimed possession of her. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to claim ownership of her—especially himself.

The breeze from the lake easily carried their hushed voices towards him.

“Not here….” Her voice shook.

“No one will see…” Anakin said against her lips and kissed her.

She halfheartedly returned the kiss, her shoulders raised with obvious discomfort.

“Padme, are you alright?” Anakin asked more seriously this time, looking her in the eye. “Something’s wrong… You’re trembling.”

“Because I’m afraid…”

“Of what? Did Obi-Wan say something?” It was only then that he looked to the glass of wine that his master had handed him, then the one in her hand. “What were you two talking about?”

There was a sharp edge in his tone, one that was tinged with suspicion.

“Nothing,” her voice rattled with the lie. “I’m scared about us, Ani…”

He sighed and smiled as if he had heard this a thousand times. “We’ll be fine, my love. Nothing can come between us…”

“But how can we be doing the right thing? All we do is lie and hide…”

“Because we love each other,” he said simply. “Because I would die without you, Padme. Without you… Nothing matters.”

“That’s just not true, Anakin,” she was shaking her head at him. “You have the Jedi Order, and—”

“And you’re a senator, I know…” he huffed. “I promise you, Padme… There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

He kissed her again, and Obi-Wan felt a flash of fire up his spine. It took a lifetime of training to push it down.

“Will you wait for me tonight? After dinner?” He kissed her. This time she didn’t fight it. 

“I… I don’t know… It’s too dangerous…”

“I’ve missed you, Padme… You’ve missed me too, haven’t you?”

“Of course…”

“Then wait for me tonight…”

“I’ll be waiting.”

They looked into each other’s eyes and Obi-Wan sensed her fear dissipating. It was subtle, so subtle that it was easily explained away, except that Obi-Wan was reaching out for something very specific and there it was. The Force was flowing from Anakin, almost imperceptibly, and Obi-Wan felt it as sure as a string on a puppet’s arm. The Force came so naturally to Anakin, he was not even aware of his control of it.

It made sense of what Padme was trying to explain to him, but she did not understand enough to describe. Anakin, in his own intense love for Padme, swayed her into thinking she felt the same. Neither of them were aware of it. And Obi-Wan, equally oblivious, had been letting it happen.


	12. Chapter 12

A few hours passed and the sun was setting over the mountains. Dinner was set to be served in the next hour, and Padme was in her room pulling a light cloak over her shoulders to fend off the evening chill that was settling in. Or maybe it was her own nerves that made her unable to stop shaking.

Anakin promised to come to her, and she felt sick with anxiety. She knew she would feel better once he was there with her, she always did. She didn’t want to dread seeing her own husband. She sat quietly at her vanity, lost in her own thoughts and not even realizing she had been staring at the same corner of the ornate rug for the past quarter of an hour.

There was a knock at her door. Didn’t he say he would come _after_ dinner?

Her heart caught in her throat and she hurried to the door, to open it and let him inside before anyone saw.

The Jedi that slipped noiselessly inside was not her husband.

“Forgive me,” Obi-Wan whispered rapidly, shutting the door behind him without a sound. “I don’t know when I will have another opportunity to speak to you alone…”

The urgency in his tone was unusual for him, and it frightened her. 

“I must know something, Padme…” he was close with secrecy, his hand on her elbow. “When you have been with Anakin, have you ever done anything against your will?”

Though she didn’t know what to expect in this unexpected meeting, that was not it. She immediately knew where he was going with the question and she couldn’t help but frown. “No! Never. If you think that Anakin would ever use mind tricks to…”

She couldn’t even say it.

He didn’t deny that he was thinking it, but he stroked his beard thoughtfully. “I don’t believe he would either, you must believe me… However, there are other troubling possibilities… Anakin is more powerful than any of us know. I don’t think even he truly knows.”

She was staring at him.

“You are far too intelligent for simple mind tricks to work on you, Padme. However, if there were ever any impulses you were already inclined towards… Or feelings you genuinely experienced… It is possible that they could be swayed further one way or the other by a powerful Force user… Even if that user is not conscious of their influence…”

“What are you saying?” She knew exactly what he was saying, but it chilled her.

“It is not completely unheard of… I witnessed it on the balcony today.”

“You were _spying_ on us?” She couldn’t help the insult.

“I needed to see it for myself…”

He was calm, as always, never betraying any emotion and it made it impossible to disbelieve the words. She didn’t want to believe that of Anakin, or herself, but it explained so much. All the times she gave into reckless impulses, when she said yes to marrying Anakin, even though the very idea was ludicrous. A curtain was pulled back and the confusion that choked her all these months finally gave way to understanding. That understanding was not comforting, though.

“You’re right…” she gasped, her legs failing her. “Oh, Obi-Wan… What am I supposed to do?”

“For his sake, we mustn’t let him go on this way. It’s far too dangerous to allow him to continue using his abilities unchecked. We must help him, Padme…”

“You’re saying I should end it?” her voice was low, fearful.

“I will end it. I’m sorry I did not intervene sooner.”

“It isn’t your fault, Obi-Wan,” she hardened her voice, almost angry that he would assume responsibility for any of this. “It’s mine. I was vulnerable when you left me and I needed him at the time… None of this is fair to him, but… I need to be the one to do it.”

“No,” he said sternly. “I won’t put you in that position.”

His tone implied that there was danger, which she perhaps knew better than he did. She remembered what happened to the Tusken Raiders the last time Anakin’s heart was devastated. That was something she rarely thought about, because it was as if it was something that happened to someone else, a disconnected stranger. She did not see it happen, therefore it didn’t. And a secret kept can’t be true unless spoken out loud.

Regardless of her denial of it, she knew Anakin did not take pain easily. He could lash out, at someone or himself. If anyone had to face that, it would be her. Besides, she believed that she could keep Anakin calm. There was far too much friction between the master and apprentice for it to go smoothly, and Anakin would never harm her. She knew this.

“I’ll do it. Please trust me, Obi-Wan…” She didn’t _want_ to do this, but there was no other choice... She wiped away a stray tear. 

“He will endure…” Obi-Wan said gently. “As we all do. As _we_ did.”

She was shaking her head, her throat tightening. It wasn’t that simple. “You don’t understand…” Her fingers curled into the fabric of his cloak, willing herself to speak the truth. “We’re married…”

“Married?” he spat out the word above a whisper.

She couldn’t bear to look at him, and she dropped her gaze, nodding. There was no justifying it, or using the excuse that Anakin had ‘swayed’ her because there would always be that part of her that was in agreement to it. Whether it was Anakin whom she wanted to marry, she was not so sure.

“I see…” his voice failed him a little. “I’m sorry, Padme… It will be difficult for him… but I will be there to guide him through his feelings…”

She hated how Obi-Wan spoke of feelings as though they were a symptom to be dealt with. But he was right. Anakin had always been at the mercy of his own emotions. 

“You’ll be nearby, won’t you?” Ordinarily she would not ask, and would put on a strong front.

“I’ll be near…” He took her hands in both of his.

She missed his touch, she remembered how it felt to have his lips on her knuckles, the tickle of his beard. It was a nice thought before she returned to the terrible task at hand. If it was only how it was before Anakin came back into her life. When she and Obi-Wan were unattached. She would kiss him now and pull him into bed with her, but not for sex. All she wanted in the world right now was to fall asleep in his arms and feel safe.

But as always, cursed as they were with duty and the ‘right thing to do’, they both let go of one another, though his fingers trailed along her hand in the act of pulling apart, taking a piece of her with him in that brush. He walked away and headed for the door. She tried not to watch him go. 

When the door opened, there was the other Jedi. Anakin and Obi-Wan nearly collided.

The silence that fell was suffocating. Anakin, his face blank with confusion, looked from Obi-Wan, to Padme, back to Obi-Wan.

* * *

  
“Obi-Wan… What are you doing in Padme’s room?”

Interesting how he forewent calling him Master. He didn’t like the volatile ripples that were emanating from Anakin as he moved purposefully deeper into the room, past Obi-Wan so that he could place himself in front of Padme.

“I could very well ask you the same,” Obi-Wan said with zen calm.

It looked bad, he knew it did. Worse than that, Anakin may have sensed something that Obi-Wan had tried to conceal all these years. His feelings for Padme, the attachment that bound him to her through the Force, no matter how hard he tried to sever it.

“I asked you first.”

“Anakin….” Padme’s hand closed around his arm as she stepped out from behind him. She was very careful to keep her gaze on him and not let it wander elsewhere. “Can I talk to you alone, please?”

Anakin’s eyes were fixed on Obi-Wan, but when his wife spoke to him, his gaze turned to her and softened, the cloud clearing just a little. The effect she had on Anakin in a simple look was more than Obi-Wan could accomplish with years of mentoring. He now understood her insistence on being the one to speak to Anakin.  
“I will excuse myself,” Obi-Wan said plainly, though he wished he could stay. He hated to leave her alone with this cruel task.

When he walked out of the room, the door closed behind him and he could hear nothing on the other side. He stole away to the balcony to wait. Night had fallen and the sky was alight with stars, some of them moving slowly across the stratosphere as ships passed by. He folded his arms within the sleeves of his robe, closed his eyes, and cleared his mind to allow the Force to pass through him and sweep away all the emotions that threatened to consume him.

Jealousy was biting at him, fear for Padme was freezing over, and anger over Anakin’s unwitting use of the Force was agitating him.

He had no right to be jealous—no one did.

He had no reason to fear for Padme—she was safe.

He could not be angry at Anakin—his padawan didn’t know what he was committing.

Once he let the Force calm him and balance him again, he was able to focus and reached out. He could feel the echos of what was happening in Padme’s room, not unlike when one puts their hand to the bulkhead of a ship to feel the engines. Chaos, that is, of emotions and energies. 

He had no way of knowing what was being said, but he felt the turmoil within. The confusion and the hurt was familiar, though perhaps manifold to what he had personally experienced because Anakin lived perpetually teetering on the edge. She was rejecting Anakin. It was the right thing to do, for the very reason that she and Obi-Wan had broken it off, but especially in the circumstance of Anakin’s accidental control of their relationship. Was she telling him about that part of it? Or was she simply ending it, now that she had the awareness and the strength to do it? He would have to discern later whether or not Anakin knew about his uncontrolled abilities. He needed to know.

For now, the Jedi Master’s heart ached for them both. Padme was not cruel, but she had to be at this moment. Anakin deserved to be happy, and it was being torn away from him, as it always was. But he was not the only Jedi to know sorrow.

They were in there for over an hour. He sensed no danger, just pain, which was understandable. And in all of this, he felt like he was the orchestrator and the disgust with himself churned deep. It was the right thing to do, he told himself. This was their duty, and no Jedi would allow such things to happen.

He had already allowed too much. Perhaps Qui-Gon had had more influence than he was willing to admit to himself.

The storm cloud of Anakin was moving now. Obi-Wan opened his eyes and turned just in time to see Anakin passing by through the foyer with long strides, his face wet with tears, but his eyes hard set. He then heard the gondola setting out from the lake house. It was clear that Anakin was heading back to the ship.

In Padme’s room, he could feel the sinking well of sadness.

Everything in him wanted to go to her, comfort her, be with her. The Jedi and parental figure in him wanted to go after Anakin, to support him through this pain. He was torn two ways, and could not get himself to move in either direction. He could not abandon one for the other.

Running his hand down his beard, he stopped again to calm himself. It was far too dangerous to have emotions here. For their sakes he could not have emotions.

Steeling himself, he made his way to Padme’s room. The door was still open, and he heard her sobbing inside before he looked in and saw her wilted on the foot of her bed, her face buried in her arms. The powerful senator who was once a queen, was just a woman at this moment.

“Padme….” He said softly, not stepping past the doorway without invitation.

At first she didn’t seem to hear him over her own crying, but after a moment when she seemed to catch her breath, she lifted her head and looked at him, devastation on her face. Crawling off the bed, she practically flew to him, holding on for dear life. He wrapped his arms around her, securing her against him as she wept more quietly now.

She didn’t say anything, she didn’t need to. It was clear that she did what she set out to do.

He laid his cheek against the top of her head, his eyes closing in spite of himself to be so near her again. He knew he should let go, his heart was bleeding with that old familiar love for her. But he held on to her, _for her_. 

It wasn’t until her crying had quieted and her tears began to dry that she made the choice to let go. She lifted her head to meet his gaze, and the depth of her brown eyes were hypnotizing, even if they were obscured from weeping.

He wanted to kiss her, even if it meant expulsion or death. That same feeling of wanting to kill and die for her came back with a vengeance, and the lifetime of Jedi indoctrination came screaming into his mind. Painfully, he pulled away from her.

“We must go…” His voice was strained.

“I know.” Her voice was steady.

There was a pause. This was where they usually spoke of seeing each other again, questioning if it would be months or years.

Maybe she was thinking the same thing that he was. _Should_ they see each other again?

The war may not give them a choice one way or the other.

“Goodbye, Padme…” He turned to go gracefully, but she seized his hand in both of hers and he was effortlessly pinned. He turned back to her, meeting her gaze again.

“I don’t know if you would believe me after everything that’s happened…” her voice shook. “But I need you to know that I love you…”

“Padme—” _I love you._

She let go of his hand. “Please don’t say it back, I know you can’t. If you do or you don’t, it doesn’t matter. I needed to say it.”

_I love you, Padme._

It was on the tip of his tongue, and he knew the gravity of saying it aloud.

“Please go…” she was stepping away, mercifully, as if she knew how dangerously close he was to saying it.

This time when he turned he walked out unhindered, everything fractured inside and perhaps atrophied. The further he moved away from her, the more numb he felt. It was impossible to fall into any daze, however, with the trail of electric sorrow that he was following. Anakin’s turbulent emotions left a very potent echo in the Force. He followed it all the way across the lake and back to the landing platform. The hired Naboo speeder dropped him off and went on its way, and Obi-Wan found their ship dark and quiet in the night.

The lights of the landing platform illuminated the ship from below, and though it seemed unoccupied, he knew his former apprentice was in there. Obi-Wan was the epitome of calm as he ascended the ramp and entered the ship. R2-D2 was plugged into a wall panel, clicking thoughtfully, an occasional soft beep as he communicated with the ship.

Anakin’s dark robe had been thrown over the pilot’s chair, and the sound of a clang drew Obi-Wan’s attention. He followed it to the engine compartment where he saw Anakin’s long legs on the floor sticking out from one of the walls.

He always knew Anakin was struggling when he was fixing things.

“I’m just re-calibrating the converters and then we can go. Maybe half an hour.”

Anakin’s voice was low, echoing from within the compartment. He sounded almost robotic, and it sent a chill down Obi-Wan’s spine.

“Very good,” Obi-Wan said as genially as ever, though he was frowning hard. Anakin couldn’t see his face at the moment.

He left Anakin to tinker. It was what the boy did best, and it was the most effective therapy he had, aside from fighting things. The latter was definitely not a viable option with the pain that was churning in Anakin. Obi-Wan stepped outside onto the ramp again, his eyes towards the domes and towers of Theed. They seemed to glow from the streetlights, a faint purple haze in the night sky behind them. Everything still smelled sweet, the air chilled but comfortable. This place was a paradise, and the promise of happiness always seemed to send them back to hell.

To be happy here was an impossible dream.

“Master,” Anakin’s voice broke into his thoughts, and he looked up to see his former apprentice at the top of the ramp, shrugging on his cloak.

“Everything repaired?”

Anakin nodded, his face still hard set.

“At last…” Obi-Wan sighed and walked up the ramp into the ship. “The sooner we return to Coruscant the better.”

The confrontation with Anakin's feelings was inevitable, and he wanted the fallout to happen far and away from her. 


	13. Chapter 13

Obi-Wan was in the communication center of the Jedi Temple. He was preparing for a report that was to be given the following day regarding a campaign in the outer rim. The Republican Army was planning a push back against the Confederacy and they needed every Jedi in on it to command countless troops. With the security of the planet Q’oor as a new outpost, the Separatists were reacting in kind. Every action in this war had an immediate reaction.

Obi-Wan was alone at the moment, his eyes raised as he surveyed the star map of the systems, taking in the drawn images of the two sides of the battle. He was calm and focused. Here and now, he was General Kenobi.

Nothing more.

He did not spend his time or anxieties thinking about the time bomb that was Anakin. Every time his former padawan was near, he could feel the roiling emotions that he was struggling to suppress. It was going to take time for the boy to heal. Lots of time. But Obi-Wan had to trust in the Force, that it would bring balance and peace back to Anakin.

More than anything he had to drown out the echo of Padme’s voice in his mind.

_I love you._

He had felt it from her whenever they were together, a part of him always knew. But he never imagined how it would feel for those emotions to be put into words. It was elevating and addicting in a way that frightened him. He didn’t know if he was worthy of it.

These were the things that troubled him since they left Naboo, but at this moment he had cleared his mind, and for this moment he was tranquil.

Some hours ago, Anakin had been summoned by Supreme Chancellor Palpatine. Obi-Wan was not overly fond of the old politician, but he tried to reason that he was a friend to Anakin, a mentor and someone that the young Jedi needed in moments like these, to get him back on track. Obi-Wan didn’t have that right anymore—if he ever did in the first place. Especially not when they were in love with the same woman.

A shadow approached in his peripheral, calm and centered in its energy. It was Anakin, looking surprisingly serene after the storm of two days ago on Naboo. He was looking up at the map as well, and for a moment they shared a peaceful silence.

“I was going to leave the Order,” Anakin said suddenly. “Today. I was determined.”

Obi-Wan’s heart sank, but he wasn’t surprised. Anakin had toyed with the idea before, it would not have been out of the blue for him to decide to finally do it after being rejected by the love of his life. But his phrasing piqued Obi-Wan’s interest. Past tense.

“You _were_?” he prodded evenly.

“I changed my mind. The Chancellor wisely convinced me not to.”

Perhaps Palpatine really was a positive influence on Anakin. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“I suppose the prophecy doesn’t mean much if I’m not a Jedi…” Anakin almost sounded like he was trying to be facetious about it, but there was something else that was… unsettling.

“The right choice is not always the easiest, as we well know…” Obi-Wan said quietly, leaning over to switch off the battle plans. The blue lights that flooded the chamber died and plunged them into darkness, only a few yellow light fixtures on the walls outlining them.

Should he bring up what happened with Padme? Surely it wasn’t helpful to bury it.

Anakin stepped closer, suddenly a breath away from Obi-Wan, the cloud surging from him. “What did you say to Padme?”  
It seemed he chose for them both to bring it up. 

Obi-Wan had to lift his chin to look his padawan in the eye. “You are acting with your feelings, Anakin…” he warned.

“And you’re acting like a typical Jedi by not answering me. What did you say to her about me?”

Anakin was right, of course, and Obi-Wan was willing to admit defeat when he was called out on his indirectness. He breathed in slowly and glanced around the hall. They were alone, but obviously they were being recorded on the security feed at every moment.

“Do you really wish to speak plainly about this? Here?”

“Yes, _now_!” Anakin’s voice boomed out, echoing in the chamber, the air around him prickling. “What did you say to her?”

Obi-Wan didn’t blink to Anakin’s show of intimidation, nor did he break his gaze or raise his voice. But the anger was deeply concerning. “I told her what you were doing to her. How you were manipulating her feelings towards you with the Force. I know you did not realize that you were doing it, Anakin, but I saw it and felt it for myself.”

The look of confusion and rage on Anakin’s face made it evident that Padme had not mentioned that part. Of course, how could she?

“I’m sorry, Anakin. I sensed it and had to stop it…”

“That’s a lie…” Anakin’s lip trembled as he clung furiously to denial. He knew it was true, though. The tears in his eyes said it all. “You just want to keep us apart…”

“Falling in love is enough, but using the Force to control someone’s will is against the Jedi Code.”

“No.” The younger Jedi was shaking his head, refusing to accept the truth. “I love her. And she loves me, on her own. I could never do that to her…”

“I know you would never knowingly do it…” Obi-Wan kept his voice gentle, but he was careful. All the serenity that Anakin had when he first entered the chamber was all but gone. Now there was chaos. “But did you never think twice about the jeopardy in being with her?”

“I don’t care—”

“The jeopardy to her, Anakin. There are very real consequences to her life and career in marrying a Jedi!”

“You know about that?”

Obi-Wan nodded, once again omitting that it was Padme herself who told him. “Anakin, it’s forbidden. You know this.”

“If it’s so forbidden, then why don’t you turn me over to the council? Right now?” He was daring Obi-Wan to do it.

“It’s over now. You said it yourself that you don’t wish to leave the Jedi Order.”

Anakin’s eyes narrowed and he finally stepped back to arm’s length… which was hardly more comforting, since that was also lightsaber length.

“How long did you know about us?” Anakin lowered his voice.

Obi-Wan’s first instinct was to dodge answering, to give a vague explanation. He had done that enough, and his padawan was asking for honesty. He deserved it.  
“I’ve known from the moment I saw you both on Geonosis.”

Anakin swallowed hard. It seemed he thought he was genuinely fooling his master all this time. It would have been insulting if his heart wasn’t hurting for his friend. The rage was quelling in Anakin.

“And you let it happen?” he asked cautiously. “Why? All this talk about it being forbidden… You’re the one Jedi who never breaks the rules. Why would you allow that?”

“I hoped it was an infatuation that would eventually come to a natural end…” he offered a partial truth. “I couldn’t destroy the happiness that you both found. I see now that I was wrong. I should have spoken sooner.”

“Or you couldn’t wait any longer because you wanted her for yourself,” Anakin said flatly.

“What?”

“Don’t try to deny it. You’re in love with her.”

Anakin was looking straight into him, reading his very soul. Obi-Wan knew he couldn’t blatantly lie, they were beyond that. “Whatever feelings I have for Padme are not important…”

Anakin’s face dropped and he stared, looking like a lost boy. “Then it’s true… The Chancellor was right…” Anakin was breathing harder now, taking one step back. “You’re in love with her. You want her for yourself, that’s why you took her from me!”

“Anakin, calm down,” he said sternly. He could feel the young Jedi’s emotions boiling beneath the surface. “It was over between us long before you compelled her to love you.”

And there he said too much.

“What do you mean ‘it was over’? It wasn’t just feelings? There was actually _something_ between you?” Anakin was blinking rapidly, trying to understand it all. “ _What_ was over? You _did_ have something with Padme! You’ve always kept secrets, you’ve always only ever given me half-truths, told me to be in control and in secret you were with her! You’re a hypocrite!”

Anakin was flaring with fury, his emotions feeding into a power never meant to be touched by a Jedi. But the truths he spoke cut deeper than any lightsaber.

“I’m sorry, Anakin… I know I’ve failed you… But you must calm down…” He spoke slowly, quietly, as one might speak to a cornered beast.

“You took her from me!” Anakin was blinded by his loss and his hand extended.

The moment it did, the Force called Obi-Wan into action, and he raised his own hand just in time to counter the push that blasted from Anakin. It was severe, raw enough to knock Obi-Wan off balance, though he didn’t fall. His palm was out towards Anakin’s gloved hand, the Force roaring between them. If Obi-Wan let go, he knew Anakin’s power would throw him clear across the room.

“Control your anger, Anakin!” He could feel it eating away inside of him, consuming the hurt and anger and growing on the feeding frenzy. “You are losing control!”

“You fed her lies about me!”

“Search your feelings, Anakin!” he shouted, grunting a little as he pushed back against the energy that was crushing down on him. “She doesn’t love you! Not in the way you want her to!”

Just when he thought the rage was going to consume Anakin, and him, it was suddenly snuffed. Anakin stopped without warning, and the defensive push from Obi-Wan knocked him into a spin, hurling him a few feet back. He caught himself, heaving for air, pale with tears in his eyes. All that anger and pain was sinking into guilt and abandonment. He dropped to his knees, his fingers gripping at his hair.

Obi-Wan felt drained by that impasse, and he too was out of breath. He waited, then stepped nearer.

“You must accept what happened, Anakin…” he said softly, reluctantly. “You are not to blame…”

“I love her…” he choked on tears. “I thought she loved me….”

He could remind Anakin that this was why Jedi were not supposed to get attached. But this was not a time for lecture, not when his apprentice—his brother—was bleeding out.

He was partially to blame, he knew, for hiding the truth from Anakin all these years. And still, he could never confess the true depths of his own feelings for her. Obi-Wan still had to keep the secret of her last words to him. That she loves him.

Though he was doomed to always be in control, he knew Anakin’s pain. He lowered onto one knee, joining his crumpled apprentice.

“I didn’t mean to attack you, Master…” Anakin’s voice rattled. “I… I couldn’t stop…”

Obi-Wan knew this. It was deeply alarming.

“What am I supposed to do without her…?”

He wanted to embrace the boy, to give himself as comfort, the closest thing to parental affection that Anakin had ever gotten since he left his mother. But Jedi do not hug or act on feelings of attachment. Even when he held his own master dying in his arms over ten years ago, he felt some shame for weeping as hard as he did.

Anakin wasn’t dying, though it surely felt that way to the boy.

So Obi-Wan placed a hand on his shoulder and ventured to squeeze at the risk of being pushed away, or caught showing too much compassion. It seemed in this tumultuous moment, Anakin had stopped seeing his master as a romantic rival and he did not fight him off. He wept quietly, shrunken on the floor, his hands pulling at his short hair.

“ _What_ ,” a voice bellowed out into the hall, and standing atop the steps leading down into it was Mace Windu, his arms akimbo, “is going on in here?”


	14. Chapter 14

That evening they were called to stand before members of the Jedi Council. There were only a few of them, the rest of the masters were off world. Obi-Wan stood beside Anakin in the center of the chamber facing Master Yoda, Master Windu, Master Ki-Adi-Mundi, and Master Plo Koon.

Mace Windu began. “We’re here to address what happened between you both today.”

“It is very serious,” Master Mundi said softly, “when two Jedi are in conflict. Particularly between Master and Apprentice.”

“Attachment to someone is the source of this conflict, we understand,” Yoda was looking at Obi-Wan, disappointment set deep in the wrinkles of his face. Such a look from his own mentor felt lethal.

Mace Windu was sitting straight in his chair, his fingers steepled in their usual way. To look at him, it would appear to be any other council meeting, were it not for the intensity in his eyes. “As Jedi, we uphold the laws of avoiding attachments for this very reason. Forming attachments and allowing emotions to control us makes us vulnerable to the Dark Side. It blinds our path in the Force. As Jedi, we must be above these petty feelings. Skywalker has struggled with this ever since Master Qui-Gon Jinn brought him into this chamber. We knew from the start that he was too old to be able to rid himself of these ingrained emotional reactions. But you, Master Kenobi…”  
Obi-Wan focused on breathing, tried not to think about the sensation of the floor caving in beneath him.

“Greater expectations, we had,” Yoda said sadly. “The perfect example of Jedi, you have always been, Master Kenobi. The right choice always you have made. Your account of the situation first, the Council wishes to hear.”

“There is nothing I could say that would free me of any fault…” He spoke calmly, humbly. “Yes, I had allowed myself to develop feelings. When I could no longer deny them, I cut off all ties and devoted myself entirely to the Jedi Order, as I always have. In spite of my efforts… I have not been able to cut my attachments… Anakin had feelings for her as well... As his master I should have guided him away from it, I am well aware of this. But I could not deny the sense of balance in him to be able to love her. It is as you said, Master Windu… Anakin was not raised without emotional ties, as I was. It is my failure that I did not know how to guide him. And it is my fault that I had become attached.”

“You lied about everything,” Anakin said sharply under his breath.

“The council has not called upon you to speak, Skywalker.” Mace Windu’s voice cut through the chamber.

“He is right, Master,” Obi-Wan looked to his former apprentice, without malice or regret. “I lied to him and to you. And I lied to myself.” And to her. “I am prepared for whatever punishment the council sees fit.”

“Get to that later, we will…” Yoda squinted at Anakin, his small clawed hand on his chin. “Have something to say, do you, Young Skywalker?”

“No.”

Anakin was teeming with anxiety and anger, and now that the floor was his, he was stubborn and difficult. Obi-Wan had to refrain from rolling his eyes or shaking his head.

“Hm,” Yoda stared at him. “Much pain, I sense in you. Betrayal, you feel. Heartbreak. Ended, is this relationship?”

Anakin’s face was towards the floor. After a pause, he nodded.

“Involved now are either of you, with this person?” Yoda was very careful not to name Padme, for which Obi-Wan was grateful.

“No, Master Yoda,” said Obi-Wan.

Anakin took in a long breath. “No...”

The Council members exchanged glances, and a few knowing nods. Clearly they had made their decision before this meeting was even called.

Master Windu looked between Obi-Wan and Anakin. “If relations with this person have been terminated, and you both affirm your loyalty to the Jedi Code, then the council will not expel either of you. However, there will be actions taken. You will no longer be assigned together, and neither of you will be assigned to any missions pertaining to politicians… Particularly in the vicinity of the Naboo System.”

They weren’t kicking them out of the order? Obi-Wan looked to Anakin, who was looking back to him with shock.

“We’re not expelled?” Anakin asked for them both.

“We need all the Jedi we can in this war,” Ki-Adi-Mundi said simply.

“Both of you are among our greatest warriors,” Plo Koon added with his usual gravity.

“To say nothing of the prophecy,” Mace Windu said with some reservation. “If there is any truth to it, then Skywalker must continue his training. And there is still the threat of the Sith Lord we have yet to root out…”

This didn’t make any sense. They were overlooking a clear violation of the code for the sake of the war. This was not what the Jedi were about, they were supposed to be peacekeepers. They were supposed to be the beacons of all that was good.

“With all due respect,” Obi-Wan spoke more sternly now, “why should our mistakes be swept away and ignored when past Jedi have been punished for less?”

“As was said, a war there is…” Yoda said solemnly. “Circumstance dictates change.”

“I cannot believe that,” Obi-Wan looked between the other Jedi Masters beseechingly. “I fully accept my expulsion. I am not worthy of being a Jedi after the choices I had willingly made.” Then the words tumbled out of his mouth before he even thought them. “I resign from the Jedi Order.”

Shock rippled through the council members and they looked between one another again.

“Master Kenobi,” Mundi said softly. “I suggest you reconsider such a choice… You are one of our best. This is your life.”

Mundi was right, this was all he knew. But they seemed to have forgotten that Obi-Wan was not at the mercy of impulsive or reactionary feelings, like his padawan. His instinct was guided by a deep moral compass that he could not turn off if he tried. It was as if the Force itself had made the choice for him.

“I agree with Ki-Adi-Mundi,” said Master Windu. “This is not a decision to be made lightly, Obi-Wan.”

“My decision is made, council.” To say it, and mean it with every fiber of his being, tore him apart inside.

“I resign as well.”

They all looked to Anakin.

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan couldn’t help raising his voice at him. “You still have so much to learn, don’t be foolish…”

However, Anakin was surrounded by surprising calm. He had the same resolve as Obi-Wan. “If you go, I go, Master.”

Again, there was uncertainty among the council members.

“Deliberate on this, we will,” Yoda spoke for them all. “Dismissed until we call you, you both are.”

“And while we consider your choices, I suggest you both do the same, Kenobi and Skywalker,” said Windu.

Anakin and Obi-Wan bowed in unison and exited the chamber.

* * *

Former master and padawan stood silently on opposite sides of the vast corridor outside of the Jedi Council room, towering pillars looming over them, making them feel as small as they truly were in the grand scheme of things. Obi-Wan had not felt so lost since Qui-Gon was killed and he found himself suddenly the master of the most important padawan in the Jedi Order. Now… his entire life as he knew it was coming to an end.

What was worse, he felt entirely responsible for the same fate befalling Anakin. He failed his apprentice and his promise to Qui-Gon.

He failed.

“I must insist that you do not leave the order, Anakin…” he broke the silence, looking beseechingly to the still figure that mirrored him across the hall.  
Anakin looked up from his hard stare at the floor. “You have no right to insist anything to me. You’re no longer my master.”

“I am not saying it as your master…” Obi-Wan kept his voice soft in the face of Anakin’s harsh tones. “I am saying it as your friend… As someone who regards you as a brother.”

“Why tell me to stay when you’re more than willing to turn your back?”

Anakin was still holding onto the accusation of hypocrisy, and he did not even need to say it.

“You think this comes easy to me? The Jedi Order has been my life and my purpose. If I cannot uphold the codes of the Jedi way, I have no right to muddle it with my presence.”

“You always did hold the code too high…”

“And you do not hold it high enough,” his vocals sharpened now. Anakin was insolent to the end.

“If leaving means that I can be with Padme, then I’ll do it. I would rather have her than be a Jedi.”

“Are you listening to yourself?” Obi-Wan took slow steps across the space of the corridor, to close the distance between them. “You can never _have_ her, Anakin. She is not _yours_.”

“You think she’s yours?”

“She belongs to no one but herself. If you love her as you say you do, Anakin, you would let her go.”

“Why, because that’s what _you_ did?” Anakin said coldly.

Anakin was baiting him into admitting that he loved her, that he loved at all. What was there left to lose? Obi-Wan held Anakin’s icy glare.

“Yes.”

“Then you are the reason why she left me.” Anakin spoke with angry finality, making it painfully clear that he still did not understand, and perhaps never would understand that Padme was not choosing between them. She did not need either of them, because she was stronger than that.

“Until you learn to let go, you will never be with her, Anakin.” Obi-Wan’s voice was low with sorrow. Anakin wanted love so badly, but he was sabotaging his own chance at happiness or peace, with himself or anyone.

The door to the council chamber opened and Mace Windu’s voice echoed out to them.

“Master Kenobi and Young Skywalker… the council summons you again…”

Obi-Wan didn’t wait for Anakin. He walked calmly into the chamber, his head high and his heart resigned to his fate. They took up their places, side by side as they had done so many times before in the center of the council chamber, but never had he felt so far from his former padawan.

“Master Kenobi…” Yoda began solemnly. “With great reluctance, accept your resignation from the Jedi Order, the council does…”

So there it was.

His knighthood gone.

His throat was tight, the weight inside of his chest weighing down to his feet. He could do nothing but offer a low, humble bow from the waist.

“We will not ask you to surrender your lightsaber, but you will no longer wear the designated robes of the Jedi, nor will you be permitted into the Jedi Temple once you step out. You will be stripped of the title of Master.” Windu spoke slowly, robotically and with what one might almost call remorse, if ever such an emotion passed the Jedi Master’s face or tone.

“But we still need your strategic mind for this war,” Master Mundi spoke up in his gentle way. “Even if you are no longer a Jedi, we would like to appeal to the Chancellor to maintain your position as General in the Republican Army.”

Of course they would want to keep him in the fight. Truth be told, this was a mercy that Obi-Wan had not anticipated. All he wanted to do was serve the Republic and Democracy, whether or not he had a lightsaber in his hand.

“Willing to fight for the Republic are you?” Yoda asked, knowing the answer already.

Obi-Wan managed a nod. “My allegiance has not wavered, Master Yoda. I will fight in any way that the Chancellor approves if it means bringing peace to the galaxy.”

That eased some of the weight that hung in the air around the Jedi, though the loss was still there. This would be the last time he would stand here in the council chamber.

“Young Skywalker,” Mace Windu was speaking to Anakin now. “The Jedi cannot conscript or force anyone to remain in the Order against their wishes… The council agrees, however, that we would prefer you to stay.”

“Why?”

“Why else?” said Plo Koon.

Anakin looked across the sterile faces of the council. “So you’ll keep me here because of the prophecy? What if I choose to leave anyway?”

“Then ended all your training is,” Yoda said simply, “And as a Jedi, never will you reach your full potential in power.”

“And balance will never be brought to the Force,” said Windu.

Obi-Wan could not believe what he was witnessing. The Jedi Council, in order to follow the prophecy and bait Anakin to stay in the Order, were using his yearning for power against him. But Obi-Wan couldn’t disagree that Anakin belonged in the Order. It was Qui-Gon’s dying wish. Obi-Wan had fulfilled his part of it by at least seeing the boy graduate into knighthood.

He could see Anakin’s choice shifting again, perhaps in no small part thanks to the Chancellor’s suggestion.

“Will you stay, Skywalker?” Mundi asked.

“I will stay,” Anakin murmured, but there seemed to be a silent for now hidden in there.

“Then you are dismissed,” Mace Windu waved a hand towards the door.

Anakin’s cloak swept around him as he turned and marched out of the room, not a second glance to his former master.

“Yes, Master Kenobi?” Yoda looked to him.

Obi-Wan carefully took his lightsaber from his belt, holding it across both open palms. “I wish to surrender it...”

Mace Windu frowned a little. “As I said, you may keep your weapon.”

Obi-Wan stared at the cylindrical weapon, as if seeing each ridge and component for the first time. This extension of himself that he had built and carried with him. “A lightsaber is a symbol of the Jedi. I would prefer not to pretend I am worthy of such an association, Masters…”

“Obi-Wan Kenobi…” Yoda was shaking his head, his eyes closing for a moment in quiet disappointment. “ _Pretend_ , you never have. Worthy of carrying such a symbol, few really are. With heavy hearts, the council will accept your lightsaber.”

His small green hand extended. There was no garish use of the Force here. Obi-Wan quietly stepped closer and placed the heavy weapon into Yoda’s small, but strong hands.

The green Jedi master laid it in his lap and turned up his head to meet Obi-Wan’s eye, the same sage eyes that had offered wisdom and comfort to him his entire life. It was difficult to be comforted now, when he was about to walk away from this place forever.

“Anakin will need guidance now more than ever,” he was speaking to Yoda, even if it was implied for all the Masters. “It would be…” he almost said _cruel_ , but he found a more Jedi-appropriate word, “… dangerous to leave him alone with the pain he is suffering.”

“Guide him, we will,” Yoda said with a reassuring nod.

He knew Yoda would continue to train him, but Anakin was losing the closest thing to a friend, brother, and father he ever had. Obi-Wan was abandoning him, but he saw no other way.

“May the Force with you, Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“May the Force be with you as well, Master… always.”

And the sentiment was echoed from all the masters who were present as Obi-Wan turned and walked out of the council chamber for the last time.


	15. Chapter 15

“Of all the situations I’ve gotten myself into…” he grumbled under his breath as he checked the loaded power cell for his blaster pistol. It was almost empty. He sighed. “I have bad feeling about this…”

Two years. Two years after he had left the Jedi Order, of fighting this war, and he still didn’t hate using a blaster any less. They were clumsy, unreliable, and just completely uncivilized. It was demeaning. Well, perhaps not as demeaning as his current situation. He was alone on this barren moon, in a cave, pinned behind a slanted rock as the droid army fired a barrage of red bolts at him, pelting the stone, gradually chipping away at it. All the while, he was talking to himself and just generally not having a very good time.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was practically flat on his back on the ground, the blaster in his hand, and his head thrumming a little from the constant bombardment around him. There was a small chirp from the belt around his hips and he took out his holoprojector, tapping the answer button with his thumb. The tiny, grotesque shape that appeared had more or less been haunting him all day, constantly calling.

“I’m rather busy at the moment, General Grievous…” he grunted when another spray of sharp rocks rained on his head. “Would you mind terribly if I call you back later?”

“ _There won’t be a later for you, Jedi Scum! Or should I just call you… SCUM._ ” Grievous hacked at his own joke. “ _The great General Kenobi, a Jedi reject!_ ”

“Oh, General… You’re making me blush… You’ve never called me ‘great’ before…” He managed a smirk as he shook the chalky pebbles from his hair.

“ _My droids have you surrounded! Your attempts at securing this moon for the Republic have been in vain! Already my army is overtaking your meager Two-Hundred-and-Twelfth!_ ”

He had been separated from Commander Cody and the rest of the battalion. It seemed a large chunk of Grievous’s army was eager to go after Kenobi. Obi-Wan didn’t exactly balk at the idea of being chased down by a troop of droids, even without a lightsaber, but the constant blaster fire was beginning to get to him.

“Your first mistake is thinking of the Two-Hundred-and-Twelfth as anything even remotely close to meager, General…” Obi-Wan blew a strand of hair from his eyes. “You can’t even kill _me_.”

The tiny ghost of Grievous in his palm shook an enraged metal fist and made a growling wheeze before suddenly ending the transmission. That was about how every conversation played out throughout the day. Grievous would threaten him, Obi-Wan would sass him, Grievous would shake his fist, and the fight goes on. 

Obi-Wan sighed and tucked the holoprojector back into his belt, just in time for another blast to shake the ground beneath him, nearly knocking him out from his cover. “That’s quite enough of that!”

“Surrender, Jedi!” a battle droid shrilled out to him over the noise.

“We can flank him! Move around the back!”

“Roger, roger!”

“Kill the Jedi!”

“Roger!”

“Roger!”

He had given up on correcting them that he was no longer a Jedi. The title was still inescapable, after two years. It didn’t matter to their programming. 

These couple of hours sitting behind a rock hadn’t been for the fun of it—he had _some_ kind of plan formulating. He waited patiently, counting on them coming around the back of this cave. Of course, it was surprising that it took them this long to reach that plan. His own blaster was on the last of its power cell, and he had no back up. He had perhaps three or four bolts left. The rock continued to shake with the bursts of droid fire, and he could now hear the mechanical marching coming towards him from the other end of the cave tunnel.

They had him surrounded. He smiled.

He closed his eyes, opened himself to the Force and the eddies that flowed through the universe around him. He could feel every footfall of every battle droid, every gear that turned and every circuit that buzzed. He was centered, he was part of the moon, part of the droid army, part of the cave and the fissures in the rocks that constructed it. He let the Force aim his blaster.

“There he is!” one of the droids pointed at him with its three fingers. In perfect unison, their rifles pointed.

He fired one bolt and the cave dropped on top of them in a flurry of droid screams and annoyed groans. The cloud of white moondust that exploded out of the cave effectively obscured the view of the battalion outside, and Obi-Wan charged out from his hiding place. He fired into the cloud, the Force guiding his hand, the blaster hitting home with a sharp _PLUNK_ every time it hit a droid. They fired blindly back into the cloud, their photoreceptors only able to track the diffused flashes of his blaster fire. They fired two steps ahead of him—or at least where they predicted he would be.

“Stop tryin’ to shoot him!” A commanding droid shouted. “Use a grenade!”

“Roger, roger!”

He could hear the objects whistling through the air towards him. 

“Oh, not good…”

He fired upward at the projectiles and managed to detonate three of the grenades in the air in blinding fireballs before his blaster ran out of energy. Two of them landed.  
The first explosion threw more rocks at his face, pelting and cutting his skin, but it was the second that knocked him a clear ten feet, his body spinning from the force of it, dropping him onto the jagged rock surface of the ground in a violent tumble.

Everything was ringing, and for a moment his vision went black, his useless weapon knocked from his hand. He didn’t know how long he was lying there when his sight slowly returned in bleary shapes. Those were clankers standing over him, alright, their elongated heads nodding, the ends of their blasters pointed at him. Then he was pretty sure he heard some ‘Jedi dog’ remark.

There were more flashes and the droids were pelted out of his view. They were being fired on, blue bolts, that meant Republic weapons. Though he was still disoriented, he knew he couldn’t stay there. He rolled, grabbing onto the first weapon that he could pull into his grip with the Force. He shot down some droids, before his leg gave out under him and he hit the ground hard. He was worse off than he thought with his injuries…

It didn’t matter. Everything was suddenly silent, and marching out from around the towers of rocks were Clone troopers. And cutting down the remaining droids was the blue blur of a lightsaber, sweeping and twirling, creating disks of light. Obi-Wan blinked hard, shaking the powdery moon dust from his hair and eyes.

He couldn’t run and he knew it. So he stayed where he was, doubled over, bleeding from somewhere, probably broken somewhere else. When all the droids were destroyed, the Jedi was walking towards him, lightsaber still ignited. Obi-Wan was fighting to retain consciousness. He was awake enough, however, to pat at his jacket and make sure that the solid, flat object was still safe in his pocket. If anything happened to it, all of this would be for nothing.

“I didn’t think I would be saving your skin again any time soon…” The voice was cold, but he would know it anywhere. “General Kenobi… In the name of the Galactic Republic, you are under arrest.”

The tip of the lightsaber hummed inches from his face.

“It’s good to see you, too, Anakin…” He managed a friendly smile. Then fainted.

* * *

When the news reached her through the HoloNet that Obi-Wan Kenobi left the Jedi Order, she was stunned. There was a shockwave through the Republic to hear it, he had been such an icon in the war, a hero and a symbol. The Lost Twenty of the Jedi were now the Lost Twenty-One.

He did not disappear, though. The Supreme Chancellor granted that he retained his rank as General of the 212th Battalion. Meanwhile, Anakin remained a Jedi and General of the 501st. Padme clung to every word that came her way regarding both men, but nothing made her heart stop beating like when there was unsure news of General Kenobi. And in all this time, he was no longer a Jedi, yet he still stayed away from her.

She hadn’t seen Anakin either. She had days when she felt the need to find him, to ask forgiveness or to at least make sure that he was all right. She could never forget how she hurt him. Perhaps it was best that the war kept him out of her reach, though. Ever leading the charge at the battle front. It was hard to see her separation from Obi-Wan as a mercy, though. She didn’t know what it was like to love him without some distance, whether it was the galaxy or his own removed feelings.

It was difficult to know where he was at any given moment. Everything she learned about him was after the fact. When he led the defeat of the Separatists in a battle, when he liberated a planet that was occupied by the enemy, or successfully defended against any offensive attack. All these things happened some place far away, or too long ago. He was no longer at the Jedi Temple, and she did not know what he called home anymore. She hoped to see him again in her dreams, but he never came. Perhaps they had finally, truly gone their separate ways.

As always it was two long years since Padme had set eyes on Obi-Wan Kenobi. It seemed to be the standard length of time that was preordained by the universe.   
But then, what was two years anyway? It was an arbitrary unit of measure for time, the “standard year” as adopted by a majority of the Republic. What was determined to be “two years” was easily 73 on one planet, or only three months on another.

And yet, it was so consistent for them, that when those two standard years went crawling past, Padme’s thoughts were turning back to Obi-Wan, as if it always aligned with some planetary placement. Ever since that terrible night on Naboo when she broke things off with Anakin, asking for divorce, she was able to move on in spite of her emotional agony. She had her work to heal her, the concerns of the Republic and daily issues to resolve in the senate. It was the quiet moments when she was alone and idle that she was the most miserable.

With every battle between droids and clones, every system that was strong-armed out of neutrality and into the war, Padme felt a fracture in her faith in the Republic. Every senate hearing passed a bill that gave the Army of the Republic more power, and more and more of that power was put in the hands of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine. And every day he swore with the utmost humility that he was simply doing what needed to be done to bring the war to an end, then he would restore power to the people through the senate. Peace was becoming smaller and smaller on the horizon.

It was becoming more and more common that she and a handful of other Senators were meeting discreetly, discussing their concerns in the current state of the senate. Among their group was Padme, Bail Organa of Alderaan, Mon Mothma of Chandrila, and Fang Zar of Sern Prime. She was not the only one questioning what the Republic had become, and that the reality of it was increasingly unsettling. She could no longer be in denial that democracy was fading away.

She felt it more than ever, like a lead coat weighing on her shoulders, as she walked out of another Senate meeting where even more control was trickling into the Chancellor’s hands. First the army, then the banks, and now there were talks of certain systems on the Outer Rim. She walked in pensive silence with Jar Jar Binks and her handmaiden when Bail Organa approached her in the halls of the Senate building, anxious and pale. She had noticed that he wasn’t present for the meeting, and her curiosity was piqued.

“Has something happened?” she asked when he seemed to struggle to speak. She allowed her entourage to walk ahead. 

He gently urged her towards the wall where they could speak in confidence. “Something terrible…” he whispered. “While you were in the senate, it was announced on the HoloNet that General Kenobi is a traitor to the Republic…”

“Obi-Wan?” She almost laughed. “He would never. No one cares about the Republic more than he does…”

“I know, that’s why I didn’t believe it at first. They didn’t say what he had done, so I asked around and did some digging…” He paused as a throng of politicians marched past.

“Perhaps we shouldn’t speak about it here…”

“Come to my apartment for drinks,” she tried not to say too eagerly. They often had such social calls, it was not out of character for them to do so.

He smiled politely. “I would be delighted.”

“In two hours?”

“I will be there.”

They made their cordial farewells, but inside Padme was panicking.

Obi-Wan a traitor? Was he arrested? Was he a fugitive? To be a traitor meant death or horrible imprisonment. What could have possibly happened to brand him an enemy of the Republic? He was framed, that was the only explanation. And what about Anakin? Did he know about this? Was he responsible for it—she didn’t want to think that Anakin was that spiteful, after all this time. But she remembered the Tusken Raiders. She also remembered how kind and fearless Anakin was in protecting his friends. Would he be as outraged as she was?

When she was home, she followed the news on the HoloNet obsessively. It spouted the victory over a Separatist outpost, and the strength of the Clone Army and its Generals. Obi-Wan Kenobi, however, was added as a footnote. The great General and former Jedi hero was disgraced. There was some verbiage too that threw suspicion, or at the very least doubt, on the Jedi Order itself.

A couple of hours later, C-3PO was ushering Bail Organa into the lobby of her apartment, and Padme rose from the couch eagerly. She had been pacing this room for the better part of an hour waiting.

“How much do you know about what happened? Where did you hear it from? Has he been arrested? Is he alright?”

The questions poured out of her and she couldn’t stop them. She was terrified. 

“Senator… Padme, please…” Bail was patting the air in front of her, trying to interject. “I can at least assure you he is not captured…”

He seemed to know that was her biggest concern. After all, Obi-Wan had been something of a friend to Senator Organa as well.

She was only a little relieved. “But how did this happen? Why?”

“May I sit?” he asked, waited for her to nod, and eased himself onto the edge of the couch cushion, looking weary. “I only know as much as my contact was able to tell me…” Bail had many contacts these days. “They told me that the Two-Hundred-and-Twelfth, as led by General Kenobi, was ordered to overtake and destroy a Separatist outpost on a moon in the Mid Rim, called Renoss.”

She had heard of this moon but she didn’t know much about the people there, they were reclusive, and last she had heard, neutral in the war. She said nothing, only listened.

“Separatists that far into the Mid Rim is dangerous, so taking this moon would have given the Republic a strategic advantage, and Obi-Wan refused to give his men the order, so another battalion was dispatched to carry out the attack instead. Kenobi was arrested and he lost command of the Two-Hundred-and-Twelfth… But it seems he escaped and has disappeared. It is being said that he has become sympathetic to the Separatist cause…”

Padme listened in dumb silence, her mouth open and her brow furrowed. “This doesn’t make any sense. None of this sounds like the Obi-Wan that I know.”

“And I _agree…”_ he lightly touched her arm, heaving a sigh. “However, there is much more than you are likely to hear on the HoloNet… My contacts have told me things about this campaign that are frightening.”

This whole thing felt wrong and frightening.

“It is said… and I do not dare to assume it is true one way or another, I am simply sharing with you what my contact had told me…. It is said that Renoss did not have any Separatist outpost on it at all. There were three Nemoidians, officers in the CIS, who had sought sanctuary there when their damaged ship crash landed there after fleeing a battle in the next system. The Renossians are hospitable people, they took them in without any thought to the war or sides. They were asked by the Republican Army to give up the Nemoidians, and they declined. So they were deemed enemies of the Republic, and the Two-Hundred-and-Twelfth was sent to take control of the moon and decimate the city. That was why Kenobi refused his orders. He tried peaceful negotiations for the prisoners. But it wasn’t enough. The other battalion came and finished the job…”

Her hand had raised to her mouth, her breathing shallow as she listened in disbelief. The explanation at least offered some sense to all this, but she could not comprehend it.

“And now Obi-Wan’s a fugitive?” that was all she could think about at the moment, though she knew she should have been more worried about the heinous crime enacted by the Republic. “We have to help him!”

“Padme…” Bail said sternly. “We cannot get involved with a fugitive of the Republic. Even expressing sympathy for him will put you in danger. We cannot risk the Chancellor, or any of his followers, to question our loyalty. You know how radical they can be. It’s dangerous enough that I am telling you about any of this, but I know Kenobi is an old friend of yours, I did not want you to hear about any of this from the HoloNet first…”

 _An old friend._ If only Bail knew.

His warning almost went into one ear and out the other, but she held onto it enough to nod and to resist running to her skiff and flying out into the stars to search for him. She didn’t even know where to begin looking. How could she even send word to him?

“But how can I stand by and do nothing? Obi-Wan needs our help!”

“We’ll help him where we can…” he said softly, though he was tense. “But you must remember the bigger picture. This is proof of how corrupt the Republic has become. We can use this in the senate, if we could only gather enough evidence, and enough of the senators to back us. It no longer matters whether or not the Chancellor has _intentionally_ allowed this massacre to take place. Democracy and Peace are crumbling…”

His carefully chosen words were bringing her back to the real world, reminding her of who she was and what she had been fighting for all these years. Obi-Wan’s circumstance was a symptom of a greater illness in the galaxy. If she wanted to help him, she needed to help the Republic.

“You’re right…” she took a deep breath. “There’s nothing we can do for him…” She was telling herself more than she was telling Bail.


	16. Chapter 16

After that meeting, she could do nothing but wait.

Bail had resources who were looking into this massacre, gathering information and ways to bring this travesty to light. Then suddenly, after months of tense waiting, she received a coded message from him that one of his contacts had reached out to him. This person had vital information that they were willing to hand over for the sake of discrediting the Chancellor.

 _What_ the information was, _who_ it was that had it, and _how_ they got it remained a mystery, which raised a lot of concern in its validity. Yet, Bail Organa was adamant that they could trust his source. The plan was that Bail was to meet his contact at an undisclosed location, get the information, and bring it back to the rest of the secret group.  
What they didn’t expect was for Bail to be trapped in a debate at the Senate. There were too many eyes on him at the moment, he couldn’t slip away. He was losing the window of time to meet his contact, and so he reluctantly asked someone else to go in his place: Padme Amidala.

It was surprising that he would ask her to go in his stead on such a dangerous mission, but he made it abundantly clear that she was the only one he could trust for this. She was no stranger to secrecy and danger, especially working in the shadows or under false pretenses and perhaps had more experience in it than the Alderaanian. If this contact was as important as Bail said it was, then she was more than willing to face the danger. Even at the risk of being caught and arrested as a traitor of the Republic.  
All she had to do was don a disguise, find the contact who would be wearing a Dressellian cloak, and say the words ‘I’m not a decoy.’ It seemed ambiguous, and hardly the most nuanced code, but Bail insisted that the contact would understand.

She didn’t have to go far, which made it easier and yet much more dangerous. The meeting place was right below their feet, in the clouded underworld of Coruscant where the denizens never saw daylight. She had to act quickly. She put on her least conspicuous outfit, along with a speech scrambler and a head wrap, and took a speeder down to the planet’s lower levels.

The squalor below was devastating. She had been too accustomed to the glistening towers of the skyscrapers and the elite buildings. It was a whole other world down here. The meeting place was a bar in one of the districts between the Jedi Temple and her own apartment. It was crowded with bodies of all kinds of beings in every imaginable shape and size, all hailing from different systems. There was a haze that never seemed to go away, there was no day or night and neon lights lit the way outside as well as in, making it almost impossible to differentiate time or place. To say nothing of the smells that permeated every surface with grime, grease, musk from all corners of the galaxy, and something faintly decayed. A noisy, electronic tune played that didn’t seem to have any kind of harmony or melody to her human ears.

She was told she could recognize Bail’s contact by their Dressellian cloak. Dressellian cloaks were not something that stood out, but they were recognizable by their design, they always carried their energy capsules in the front of the cloak, for easy access, and were made of a very particular fiber found only in their native system. She moved casually through the crowd, her own cloak concealing the blaster that was strapped to her thigh, the mask covering her lower face.

For all her adventures and experiences, being in a dive bar like this was new to her. She discreetly observed the other patrons, to assess how she needed to behave to not stand out. Generally, they all seemed relaxed, and yet completely on their guard. There was a clear sign outside of the establishment that weapons were allowed but had to remain sheathed or holstered. And there definitely was an abundance of weapons here. If she stepped on the wrong toes or tail, she could be shot dead.

Sitting at the corner of the bar was a hunched figure with their hood up. The head beneath it looked considerably too small to actually be a Dressellian beneath it, but the cloak was clear as day. (Day on Naboo, maybe.) Fearlessly, she approached and took the seat beside them, ordering a drink and surprised at the distortion of her own voice through the mask.

The Gran bartender set her drink before her and looked with all three of his eyes to the one in the Dressellian cloak.

“’Nother round of ardees?”

The stranger nodded.

This being was certainly trying hard to be mysterious and it was working. She couldn’t even tell if they were armed.

“I’ve come on behalf of our mutual friend…” she said quietly, her voice rasping from the mask. “He said I could trust you…”

The bartender returned with the ardees, better known as Jawa Juice, and the stranger took it without a word to him.

“Did our mutual friend offer means for me to trust you?” They were using a voice modulator as well, the same precautions that she was using for anonymity, and they stared straight ahead. They did not drink, that would have required the removal of their mask.

“He wanted me to tell you… ‘I’m not a decoy’.”

The stranger turned their head just enough for one goggled eye to peer out from beneath the hood. The lifeless lens stared at her for a silent moment. “Very well. I have what you need.”

She extended her gloved hand, palm up to take it. 

“It’s damning…” Their vocals were broken up through the mask. “You will be arrested for treason if you are caught with it.”

“I’m aware.”

“Then you admit to treason.”

Her blood ran cold. She had walked right into a trap.

The stranger stood to their full height, which was easily taller than her. She felt a blaster in her ribs. “Move.”

Her drink was left untouched and she got to her feet compliantly. All the while, her adrenaline spiked and she was looking for an escape. The Gran bartender grunted about the tab and the stranger tossed a few credits at him, instantly silencing him (aside from an unsavory curse). No one in the establishment cared that she was pushed roughly out the back door, into an alleyway so dark and narrow that two human bodies could barely fit. She noticed the stranger had a pronounced limp, perhaps a cyborg. The traffic of the speeders above them roared and buzzed, but there was no one else here. It was the perfect place to be murdered.

Her back hit the wall and the stranger pointed the blaster at her ribs. Without hesitation, she pushed the end of the blaster away from her and shot the heel of her palm to the chin of the face mask, and she could hear the teeth clack inside as the stranger’s head was knocked back. If she knew they were human, especially male, she might have shot her knee to their groin. Instead, she punched their throat that was protected only by fabric.

They gagged and stumbled away from her and she made a run for it. She didn’t get very far when she was encircled around her waist, crushed around her ribs and held firmly in place.

“You’re as foolish as ever, Senator!” the voice rattled with the distortion.

They knew who she was. This was getting worse by the minute.

“Are you a spy for the Republic?” She asked, even as she struggled to get free. “If you care about the galaxy and democracy, you’d understand why I’m here!”

“I have no trouble understanding you…” They spoke slowly at her ear, menacingly. One of the arms holding her let go, and she saw the mask tossed in front of her onto the ground. “You never change.”

The voice was the opposite of menacing now, and it sounded like it was smiling. It sounded like…

“Obi-Wan?!”

His grip loosened and she slipped free, spinning around to face him. Sure enough, wearing that Dressellian cloak was Obi-Wan Kenobi. Even after more years of not seeing him, the only thing that seemed to change about him was his attire—a jacket and a few belts of items, one gun holster, and scarf—and it was strangely shocking to see him in anything other than Jedi robes. Yet, he looked so very tired, even if he was smiling warmly to her, a hand rubbing at his throat where she punched him.

“I must say, I was right to be afraid to ever face you in a fight…”

He was making jokes, and she should have been angry, but she found herself so deliriously happy to see him alive that she chuckled in disbelief, pulling off her mask to reveal her own face at last. A surge of anger rose in her, however, and she hit him hard in the chest.

“You frightened me!” she scolded.

He touched at his chest with a small wince and an apologetic shrug. “I needed to make it appear convincing… Where is Organa? Why did he send you?” Obi-Wan got back to the business at hand.

She hit him again.

“Ow! Alright, milady, you’ve made your point…”

“I have been so worried about you! The Republic has been after you for months, and even before that, I never heard a word from you!”

“Padme…”

“All I knew was what I heard through the HoloNet, through other senators. Rumors and statements. I know you were far away leading campaigns, but all I wanted was a word, Obi-Wan… Anything… Even a goodbye. You never told me goodbye.”

“I don’t think I wanted to…” he murmured. “I did hope to see you again, Padme… But I had my own path to follow before I could see you again… It seems I continue to slip further into disgrace, however…” He frowned pensively, as if puzzled by his current situation.

Again, her anger dwindled as quickly as it came. “So long as you’re _you,_ I could never see you as a disgrace, Obi-Wan…”

A small smile tugged beneath the beard. “I am glad of that…. But you haven’t told me where Organa is.”

“He was held up at a senate meeting and couldn’t get away. Now I know why he wanted me to be the one come in his place…”

“You’re not a decoy this time,” he grinned.

Bail chose that message as a callback to the invasion of Naboo, when she paraded as her own handmaiden. Back when she was first introduced to the padawan, Obi-Wan. And now, here they were meeting in a damp, dark alley under treasonous purpose. It was difficult to wrap her mind around, especially regarding Obi-Wan.

“What are you supposed to give me?” she asked.

He looked in both directions, to be sure no one else was present, and he moved in close, so close she felt his warmth.

“I have proof of the massacre on Renoss… I had Arfour with me most of the time. It recorded my reconnaissance of the planet, as well as my attempted negotiations with the Renossian Queen, Piv Trogante. I couldn’t follow through with my orders to destroy their capital, and so I attempted to negotiate with her to surrender the Nemoidians who were taking refuge there, and to accept protection from the Republic. General Grievous had made it clear he was coming for the Nemoidians, and would take the moon along with them… He is a monster with no remorse, there would be no negotiating with him. The only language he understands is war. And even then, he’s hardly fluent… All the while, Republic Intelligence insisted that the moon was already a Separatist outpost that needed to be destroyed, and they would not heed my reports. The reconnaissance, the communications, it’s all there.”

“Where’s Arfour?”

“It uh… Met with a Destroyer droid… I salvaged its memory core… And not much else.”

“Couldn’t you have transmitted this information? Why did you have to come here, where they could catch you?”

“It is too risky to transmit it. I needed to ensure it was in the right hands…”

“It’s risky to _you_ to come here in person,” she said sharply. “Aren’t you concerned about your life?”

He smiled genially. “My life has always been forfeit in the name of peace.”

She knew this. She had always known that Obi-Wan never put his life, or anyone else’s, above a greater cause. He was the constant star in the fight for what was right, and she knew now more than ever why she had fallen so hopelessly in love with him in the first place. And it infuriated her how selfless he was.

“Also… perhaps…” He added, haltingly, as if it was difficult to find the words. “I could not pass the opportunity to possibly see you again…”

He took her face in his hands, his gloves coarse against her skin, but the gesture so gentle she melted into it. And then he kissed her, deeply, and she should have been embarrassed by the small, needy sound that escaped from her. She held him tightly, wondering at how she could feel him in her arms again, solid and real. They only broke away for air, lips still hovering close. It left her head spinning.

“I have wanted to do that for so long…” he said breathlessly, smiling.

She held his face close to hers, and she could not see the details of it in this dark place. “How long will you be on Coruscant?” she feared to ask.

“Trying to be rid of me already?”

“I never want you out of my sight…” she clutched at his jacket. “I don’t want you to leave me again…”

“Then I’ll come to you. Tonight…” he gently pulled her hand loose to place something in it. It was a data disk and he closed her fingers around it. “Arfour’s memory core. Please be careful with this. The data is expendable, you’re not. We cannot bear to lose you in this fight… I cannot bear it.”

She put the data disk safely in her jacket and she took his hand again. “When will you come?”

He raised her hand to kiss her knuckles, the tickle of his beard making her legs weak. “In four hours. Your apartment?”

She nodded.

Lips brushed again, but were immediately broken apart by the sound of sirens from the Coruscant Security Force. Someone must had alerted them to the possible alleyway murder. Obi-Wan kissed her quickly, gloved hands holding her face so that he could meet her eye.

“Get the disk to Organa… I’ll come to you.”

“Four hours,” she reminded him.

“I will be there… Hurry!” he let go, picked up his mask from the ground, and took off at an uneven jog as he fastened it back onto his face.

He was hurt, that’s why he was limping. It wasn’t an act, and she felt the chill of fear. What had he been through? She too covered her face again and went in the opposite direction.

* * *

Even though he was more or less in deadly peril by being on this planet, Obi-Wan was carried away in his thoughts—his spirit was absolutely soaring from seeing Padme again. There was shame for feeling such joy in reuniting with her, and he actively had to remind himself that he was not a Jedi. He cut that tie two years ago, he was _allowed_ to enjoy these feelings. He did not have to treat them as a malady, or something to be cautious about.

He was learning to shrug off the shame, but he could not seem to shake the _guilt._ For the first time in two years he had seen Anakin, and he could not forget how much she meant to the boy or how Obi-Wan himself had betrayed him. There was some degree of Obi-Wan’s love for Anakin that prevented him from going to her when he first walked away from the Jedi Order. He stayed away for her sake, for Anakin’s, and maybe even for his own. He needed to learn what it meant to not be a Jedi. He still hadn’t figured it out. He didn’t know what he was.

What happened at Renoss made him feel more lost than ever.

The last thing he saw was Anakin standing over him, his lightsaber so close to Obi-Wan’s chin that it singed his beard, a faceless wall of his Clone Troopers in an echelon formation behind him, their true numbers obscured by the white cloud of moondust. When he woke again he was in a windowless cell on a troop transport ship that was waiting in orbit for Anakin and the 501st to finish securing the moon as a new outpost of the Republic. Regardless of the physical pain he was in, he was eager to see and speak with his former padawan once more.

He could not immediately fault his former apprentice for arresting him, they were at war, after all. And it was Anakin’s duty to arrest what they deemed a deserter, a traitor.  
The moment that Obi-Wan realized he still had R4’s data disk in his jacket, however, he knew what needed to be done.

Anakin was going to return to the ship, speak to Obi-Wan, have the obligatory interrogation to determine if he was a Separatist or not, and confiscate the data disk. Anakin would then have to turn the disk over to the Jedi Council and the Chancellor, sealing Obi-Wan’s fate whether or not he wished that on his former Master. The crucial information would surely be buried by the Republic.

What seemed more likely, if Anakin still cared about his old mentor, was that Anakin would take the data disk and tell no one, thereby making himself a traitor as well. That was not a choice that Obi-Wan wanted to force upon his old friend. So for Anakin’s sake, he escaped. It was better that Anakin thought Obi-Wan a traitor than to have to sacrifice his own principles.

It was not until Obi-Wan was far from Renoss in a stolen escape pod that he learned the terrible truth of it. Anakin _led_ the 501st in decimating the Renoss capital. Thousands of casualties were reported and the city fell to the Republic.

The last he had heard was that Anakin was swept up in the Outer Rim sieges, winning battle after battle to push back the Separatist forces. And here was Obi-Wan Kenobi, hiding in the shadows, and finding his way back to the woman that they had both fallen in love with.

For years he was accustomed to carrying sorrow like an old friend, letting it keep him humble and quiet his mind. For this moment, he let himself forget Renoss, and with the taste of Padme’s lips still on his he felt… happy.

“Well? How’s the leg?”

Dex’s husky voice accompanied the thumping footfalls as he squeezed through the narrow door of the diner’s small stockroom. Two of his four hands were wiping away grease with his lucky rag. There was never an hour that Dex’s Diner was closed, and so Obi-Wan had to hide away in the back, out of sight of the constant wheel of customers.

Obi-Wan was sitting on a sealed crate of dried Klatooine frog legs and tendrils. Dex’s Diner was apparently the only place to get such a… treat. The small space wafted with different kinds of spices, the grease hanging in the air and making everything just a little tacky to the touch. But the stock room was as tidy as it was tiny, and Obi-Wan managed to be relatively comfortable with his leg propped up on a cask of Jawa Juice, a roll of fabric under his ankle. Obi-Wan felt quite at home, because he knew he was among friends.

“Almost healed, thanks to the bacta you gave me…” Obi-Wan said with a small smile. “Thank you again, Dex… You didn’t have to help me.”

“Didn’t have to?” the Besalisk chortled and folded one pair of his arms. “I’ve never turned away a friend to save my own skin. Never will!”

“And I don’t know if I properly thanked you for holding these for me…” he tapped the bundle that his leg was propped on.

“You did, buddy….” Dex laughed again and scratched at his whiskers. “What’s next for ya?”

Obi-Wan stared at the rolled, heavy brown material under his foot. He kept his Jedi robes as a bundle, which looked like an unassuming, soft log this way. Looking at it now was a reminder that he strongly considered leaving it stashed here at the diner never to be retrieved. Now, he intended to take it off his friend’s hands. But the question repeated in his mind. _What’s next?_

Padme was waiting for him. The very thought made his heart race and an unconscious smile appeared. In the corner of his eye, Dex grinned widely.

“I’d know that look on a person anywhere…. You know exactly where ya wanna go…”

Under his friend’s wise gaze, Obi-Wan felt suddenly… shy. Like an adolescent being called out for their crush and he busied himself with carefully lifting his injured leg from where it rested. It still tingled from the bacta spray, the deep bruises and the wound in his calf where the jagged Renossian rock embedded were healing nicely. The wound had been so severe when he received it a couple of months ago, and being constantly on the run, it did not seem to want to heal properly. Even with all his deep meditations to encourage healing. Finally, the cut was closed now, clean, and only slightly discolored. He massaged it lightly for a moment, pretending that he wasn’t thinking of Padme.

“There is one place I have to be…” he admitted quietly.

“It’s a woman, isn’t it?” 

A blonde woman’s head poked around the door, her mouth smacking as she chewed. The human waitress, Hermione Bagwa, had worked for Dex for years, and she was always curious about the Jedi that Dex knew so well.

Obi-Wan didn’t know they had an eavesdropper and his cheeks flushed. “Well…”

Dex looked at her reproachfully. “Shouldn’t you be takin’ people’s orders?”

“We only got a Dug eatin’ sliders right now. Seven’s taking care of it…” She was smiling at Obi-Wan again, as if she expected him to say something juicy. “Here, brought you some sliders, too…” Her hand appeared with a small plate, three greasy objects piled on top. They were still bubbling, even though they weren’t hot.

Obi-Wan swallowed hard. “Oh… No thank you…”

Dex laughed. “Don’t worry! We got that pink stuff you can take before you eat it. That way this time you won’t get the, uh… _tummy problems._ ” Dex was grinning.

Obi-Wan remembered the misery of eating those sliders the last time and politely shook his head. “I already had my dinner…” That was a lie. He hadn’t eaten in at least a day. He was relieved when Hermione took the plate away. “I wanted to let you know, Dex…” he began quietly. “… that I won’t be leaving Coruscant…”

Dex’s brows rose beneath his armored forehead. “If it’s transport ya need, I know a guy who can—”

“No, no…” Obi-Wan frowned a little with the weight of his next words. “What I mean is, I don’t intend on running for the rest of this war, or the rest of my life… I don’t know what will happen, but I do know that I am prepared for it.”

Some Jedi had the gift of foresight through the Force, gifts of being able to determine the flow of events or at least some premonitory intuitions and feelings. Obi-Wan didn’t have those gifts, at least, not in any exceptional degree. But he did have faith in the Force.

“The only reason I had returned to Coruscant in the first place has been done…” Bail got his data disk, but he hadn’t counted on reconnecting with Padme again. “Whatever my part is, I feel it is here.”

“You’re all over the HoloNet,” Hermione pointed out worriedly, her head popping around the door again. “They catch you, you’ll be tossed in a cell somewhere or worse. Listen, honey, my family lives in the lower levels, they can give you a place to lay low…”

Her kindness and willingness to risk herself for a fallen Jedi was warming, but Obi-Wan shook his head gently. “Thank you, but I don’t wish to simply hide. You must trust me…” he looked to them both. “I know what I have to do.”

Dex’s dry lips stretched into a massive line and he rubbed at his jowls. “I believe ya, Obi-Wan…” he said quietly.

Obi-Wan was on his feet and he pulled on his jacket, picked up a pilot helmet and goggles for anonymity, and the bundle, which was held by straps, was thrown over one shoulder. Dex and Hermione moved out of the way of the small door to let him out of the stock room, and Dex was already opening his four arms invitingly. Obi-Wan smiled and put his arms around his old friend, each giving a hearty pat. They hardly ever saw each other, but somehow this was their way.

“Goodbye, my friend…” Obi-Wan tried to say it in a way that didn’t sound so final, but Dex’s jowls constricted, giving away his emotions.

“Goodbye, Obi-Wan… and good luck out there. When you need me, ya know where to find me.”

Obi-Wan slipped out the back of the diner where an unmarked speeder was waiting for him, thanks to Dex. The only certain thing in his future right now was Padme, and he focused on that. She was his present. What would happen tomorrow would happen tomorrow.


	17. Chapter 17

Bail Organa was finally freed from the senate meeting, worn thin from the endless debate over funds, he was eager when he met Padme in the corridor of the senate building.

She was back in her professional clothing, a long elegant dress of rich colors but ornate design, her hair pulled back and styled intricately around her head. She greeted him as she always did in those corridors, they exchanged a friendly greeting, and inconspicuously handed over the data disk that he was easily able to conceal in his own robes. She had to wonder if Bail knew what connection there was between her and the former Jedi, beyond their official acquaintance and obvious friendship throughout the years.

As soon as she was brought up to date on the senate meeting, they found a way to plan their next secret alliance meeting. They were going to meet in the lobby of Padme’s apartment, as they often did, tomorrow morning, to discuss the information from Organa’s contact.

For now, Padme had a few hours to herself. Obi-Wan said he would come to her in four hours, and that was two hours ago. She went straight home, struggling to not appear to be in any particular hurry. One could never tell if eyes were watching. 

Again, they had to operate in secret.

She was used to secrets, but there was no longer the guilt of breaking any sacred codes. That was enough to make her heart soar as she arrived home.

When she entered her apartment, she was greeted as always by C-3PO.

“Welcome back, my lady,” he said chipperly. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Have any visitors come?”

“Not today. Will we be expecting any?”

“Yes… A friend will be visiting in the next hour or so…” she blushed. “A… gentleman friend.”

Protocol droids knew how to pick up cues for discretion and Threepio tilted towards her, lowering the volume of his voice. “Understood, my lady…”

“Then in the morning we will be entertaining a few representatives of the senate again.”

“Wonderful!” The protocol droid always was a fan of hosting guests. “Would you like me to prepare refreshments tonight for you and your… friend?”

“Later perhaps, thank you, Threepio. You may go…”

The gold droid shuffled away obediently and now she had nothing to do but wait. She waited… and waited. An hour passed. Then another half hour. With every minute she began to fear the worst. She paced anxiously, she had told her handmaiden that she wouldn’t need her for the night, so no one was coming. At least, no one was supposed to come except for _him_.

What if he was caught? What if he was forced to flee the planet? She checked the HoloNet, almost obsessively. She paced, checked it again. Not a word. She sat in the open veranda on one of the soft, curved couches, her hands tightly clinging to one another when she heard the whine of a speeder landing at her balcony.

She practically flew from her seat, speeding out onto the balcony. Obi-Wan was climbing from his parked speeder. He was no longer wearing the Dressellian disguise. The jacket that he was wearing looked rather more rugged than was befitting his character, contrasting the perfect trim of his hair and beard that he seemed to maintain. It may have lacked the imposed importance of a Jedi dress code, but he did not look any worse in it. In fact, without the countless Jedi layers, she could see the trim physique of his body more easily. He was wearing a helmet and the same goggles as before, which concealed his identity from anyone who might have been watching the open space of her veranda.

But she knew that beard and the smile within it. Even when it spread into a grin as he stepped towards her, no longer hiding behind some demure smirk. This was a Jedi allowing himself to be happy and she smiled back at him so widely her cheeks hurt. She didn’t know what to say, she just laughed and threw her arms around him. For a moment, they said nothing and just held each other. Her heart was full. Finally she pulled away, curling her fingers into his jacket.

“Will you stay the night with me?” she asked, struggling not to beg for the one thing she wished she could have had all these years.

“You mean until the morning?” he sounded surprised.

“Yes.”

“I’d stay for an eternity if I could…” his thumb brushed her cheek. “But I will take it one morning at a time, if I must.”

“Please don’t be cryptic, my heart can’t take it…” she wanted to laugh, but her pulse was too loud in her ears.

He smiled. “The answer is yes…”

She took him by the hand and led him—no, _pulled_ him inside and to her bedroom. He was already removing the helmet and goggles, letting them thud heavily on the floor somewhere. It was dark, like it always was when they had been together. She didn’t want it to be the same, she wanted to relish in their new freedom together, this new chapter.

She turned on the lights in her room, a warm gold light. It seemed counterintuitive to turn the lights on for romance, so she explained without waiting for him to ask.

“I’m tired of hiding…” she reached over his shoulders, raking her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. “I want to see you…”

Now she could see every detail, the lines of age that weren’t there before and the grey threads in the hair at his temples, which added to that dignified air that he had since the day they met. The color of his hair was beginning to catch up to his soul, and she could see a white whisker here and there in his beard that were invisible from a distance. She was in love with every detail of him.

His hands were on her waist, causing everything inside of her to flutter. She was taking her time, taking every second, savoring it and dragging it out. She pretended he was all hers, she no longer had to share him with the Jedi. Just the same, she belonged to him.

His eyes were trailing over every inch of her face, studying her, lingering on her mouth. Finally, he inched slowly closer, just a light tickle of lips before pressing into a full kiss. She pulled his jacket from his shoulders, slipping it off his arms and tossing it aside. He took it upon himself to remove his belt and the heavy blaster attached to it.

He then reached behind her head and loosened the band in her hair, and the multiple pins, to free the thick tresses. Her hair cascaded down into vibrant waves and she hummed at the sensation of his fingers running through. In the past with him, she had always taken down her own hair, undressed herself. This small act from him, a former Jedi letting loose her hair, felt naughtier than it should have. She wanted him to take everything off of her, she wanted him to indulge himself.

She found the tail of his shirt and pulled it up over his head, mussing the auburn strands enough for them to fall over his eyes. What she saw on his skin beneath made her breath catch for a different reason. Parts of him were yellowed with bruising, the skin torn, but healing at his elbow from what must have been a nasty gash.

“Oh, Obi-Wan…” she lightly touched her fingers on the bruising. “How…?”

He looked down, following her gaze. “My ship had a rough landing, that’s all…” he said it so lightly, as if he had tripped on his own feet. “It doesn’t hurt…” He smiled reassuringly.

It was his turn now to take a layer, and she was wearing quite a few. The embroidered corset was tightly fastened at her back, so she obligingly turned around to grant him access. She was itching under her skin, aching for him, but forcing patience. She was determined not to give in to the starving urgency of their previous nights together.

He had been fiddling with those clasps for some time.

“Blast this!” he grumbled under his breath.

She giggled at his struggle, a hand over her mouth.

“I refuse to believe this is one of the biggest challenges you’ve ever faced…” she said coyly over her shoulder.

“Single-handedly fighting a hundred battle droids is infinitely simpler than this…” he huffed and gave up.

She was about to help when something released all of the fastenings at once, as if a great key had been turned, and the corset opened and fell to her feet. She blinked at it and turned to him again.

“Did you just…?”

His expression was pure innocence. “The Force has many uses…”

The dress she had on beneath hung loosely from her shoulders, and now he had much more ease slipping off the bangles from her arms, the choker from around her throat. Every layer being removed by his hands made her shiver with rising heat. He got her down to her dress slip before he finally let her have her turn. He pulled off his own boots and she worked at the front of his pants.

Her hands were fumbling now with anticipation, and she was failing at her task. The tables were now turned. What made it even more difficult to focus was the bulge she felt every time her hand accidentally brushed the front of his pants.

She couldn’t take it. She gave up and just grabbed him by the waistband, leading him to the bed and pulling his full weight on top of her. His lips were instantly on hers, kissing her madly, his hips sinking where she spread her legs, her skirt hiking up over her thighs.

A whimper escaped her and she clawed desperately at his back. He reached between them to unbuckle his pants, and her hands delved behind him to grip his rear, kneading the muscles there. The deep hum that rose out of him at her touch was wonderful. His hands explored her, sliding along her thighs, up along her hips, her waist, bunching her dress ever upward along the way, until he found her breasts and she hummed appreciatively when he fondled them.

Reluctantly, she released him from her grip so that she could wiggle out of her dress—the last shred of clothing she had on. He shared in the enthusiasm, and in order to get his pants off, he had to roll off of her and onto his back to kick them off. As soon as he was naked, she was on top of him, her hand around his fully erect manhood, kissing him again and he grinned at her assertiveness. When she stroked him, the kiss was broken from the almost pained grunt that rose out of him, the sound ending it a moan. He was so sensitive to her touch, it made her feel powerful.

She learned from the beginning that he liked it when she took charge, and it would be a lie to say that she didn’t get excited over the idea of commanding a warrior, a Jedi Knight, an army general. Tongues danced together and she could have happily drowned on the taste of him, the way he throbbed in the palm of her hand.  
In one swift movement, he rolled both of their bodies together, getting her on her back again, and his mouth had migrated away from hers, to her neck, between her breasts, over her navel, down… down until his beard tickled her inner thigh.

His breath was hot against her, and his tongue glided over, searching until it found the delicate bud. She gasped when he found it and he widened his jaw with purpose, kissing her clit, generously abusing it with flicks and circles, and she was writhing. He held her thigh with one hand, the other slipping one then two fingers inside.

“Obi-Wan…”

She moaned out in gasps, one fist in those unruly auburn locks, the other closed in the fabric of the pillow beneath her head. She forced her eyes open beneath heavy lids, to look down the length of her trembling body so that she could see him there. The mere sight of Obi-Wan Kenobi’s head between her legs was enough to unravel her. He devoured her relentlessly and she could feel her insides winding tighter, desperation sinking into every nerve, into her very bones. She felt him slow down.

“Don’t stop….” she begged.

There was more vigor in his mouth, his fingers working her faster…

And that was when she felt it. A warmth, a power surged into her from that hand, the same she had felt in her dreams of him and it filled her with pure rapture, finding every sensitive nerve ending throughout her body, and she was undone as the Force gave her life and death all at once. Her lungs seized and everything flashed white behind her eyes, her back arching so far that it practically lifted her off the mattress. The cry that rose out of her as she climaxed sounded so far away to her, everything spinning, her head pushing back into the pillow as she sank into the pleasure and floundered at his touch. 

She was still floating away on the release that she did not realize he had stopped and was leaning over her, a humble smile that bordered on a proud smirk.

“Where did you…” she said breathlessly. “…learn something like that…?”

“Intuition…” He licked his lips. “Imagination…”

Her chest was still heaving, but she was beginning to catch her breath and she looked dubiously at him. “It hardly seems to be the Jedi way…” she whispered.

“Then it’s fortunate that I am not a Jedi…”

Something told her that even when he was in the Jedi Order, he had more lewd thoughts than he was likely to ever admit. She pulled him down for a kiss, tasting herself on his lips and in his beard and wrapping her legs around his to pin him to her. Her body was electrified, needing more of him, everything ignited by what he had just done to her.

He devoured her in the kiss, breathing in deeply through his nose. He adjusted over her, took hold of her thigh, and slowly pushed himself inside. A high mewl rose out of her to feel him deep inside and she lifted her hips to meet him, her legs pulling to take all of him. The fullness completed her, and he gasped out a trembling breath against her lips. He thrust again, slow and deep, finding an even tempo. They did not have to be frenetic about it this time. They could have this moment, to join together and stay that way for as long as they wanted. Slow, but rhythmic, and oh so wonderful. She could look him in the eye and get lost in the depths, the unbridled love and pleasure that they shared. 

She never wanted him to stop, even as they both began to sweat, gasping for air. The friction was mounting, and he could not keep the slow pace. She knew his body was screaming for release, it was knotted in every muscle and the rising volume of his desperate moans. The need was beginning to take over now, his hips moving faster, harder. Reaching for the edge. He took her hand in his, fingers linking tightly, for dear life.

Never had she seen him lose control like this, even in their past interactions, there was always some degree of command, some small tether grounded in consciousness and the outside world. But he was lost in her, moaning her name and clumsily kissing her lips, her neck, his hips gyrating madly between her legs. More than once she was overcome with pleasure and she let him know when she cried out his name in return, biting once or twice at his shoulder and swallowing the salt of his sweat.

Finally, he couldn’t hold out any longer. When he came, his body locking with hers and a deep bellow rolling out of him, she felt it to her very core, as if for that moment they were of one body, feeling the same paralyzing thrill down to their fingertips, the world swirling, lungs and hearts laboring for air.

When the noise cleared, they died together just for a moment in each other’s arms. His full weight was on her, exhausted as he tried to catch his breath with his face buried into the crook of her neck. She just held him, ignoring that old habit of needing to be out of bed and dressed in an instant.

It was the middle of the night.

They had nowhere to be but here.

His breathing leveled out and he moved to roll off of her self-consciously, but she held him where he was. She welcomed the weight. And he was kissing her again, lazily placing pecks all along her cheeks, under her eyes, her jaw, and she could not stop smiling in the shower of affection that he could never give her before. She was disappointed when he stopped, to look her in the eye.

“I love you…” he breathed. 

Was she dreaming again?

“Say it again…”

He chuckled with that beautiful, now delirious grin. “I love you, Padme… I love you…” he said it over and over, punctuated with more kisses. “I love you…” 

She finally let him lie on the bed beside her, arms still around each other, noses almost touching. Separation at this point felt impossible. He was looking at her in quiet adoration, as if admiring her from afar, his fingers lightly toying with the curls of her hair.

“Obi-Wan…” she said softly. “Are you alright?”

He blinked quizzically. “I would say I am more than alright…” A devious smirk tugged beneath the beard.

She blushed, pinching her eyes closed with a giggle. “No… That’s not what I mean…” She looked into the blue of his eyes again. “With everything that’s happened to you… It must have killed you to leave the Jedi Order… And then what happened on Renoss…”

His eyes dimmed a little. She didn’t want to ruin the moment of contentment, but she was unable to shake the sense of fatigue in him. Her hand rested on his cheek as he said nothing for a moment.

“I wanted to come to you when I left the Order…” he finally said. “I knew I _could_ come to you, at last… But I’m… I was too ashamed.” He was pretending the shame was past tense. “The last thing you needed was a disgraced Jedi crawling to your door…”

“I was worried about you. Every day. I would have been happy with just a message to know you were alright…”

He turned his head, placing an apologetic kiss into her palm, his gaze downcast. “I’m sorry, Padme… After what had happened with Anakin, it seemed the fewer Jedi you had in your life, the better… At least for awhile…”

There was an involuntary shudder to think of Anakin, and with it came a light ache in her heart. “How is Anakin?”

His eyes lifted to her, a hint of surprise, but immense sadness. “I wish I knew…” He sighed, pausing heavily. “Padme… There is something you should know…”

That was never a comforting segue. She held her breath and waited for him to continue.

“The battalion that carried out the orders, and wound up arresting me… was the Five-oh-First...”

“Anakin was there?”

He nodded.

She was sitting up now, leaning on an elbow. “Did you speak to him? Couldn’t you have convinced him not to carry out the attack?”

“I tried…” he said tiredly, sitting up as well and leaning against the headboard of the bed. He reached down for the blanket, pulling it to cover them both now that their blood was cooled and the room’s chill was settling in. He made sure to pull the blanket up to her shoulders before covering himself. “He contacted me through hologram first… He insisted that they had their orders, that my reconnaissance was flawed. I have never known him to be so strict in following orders… unless if it complied with his own ideals…”

There was so much left unsaid, all of it carefully concealed between the lines. He was hurting, she could tell, even if he tried to control it or hide it. He raised Anakin, had always tried to do what was best for him. She didn’t wish ill on Anakin any more than Obi-Wan could, but she could not help the sting to know that Anakin could lead such a massacre, blindly following orders and arresting his old mentor and friend. The worst part of it was how it disturbed Obi-Wan. He did not seem to know the level of violence that Anakin was capable of. She did. And she still could not get herself to betray Anakin’s secret, because she refused to let that side of him define him.

“I’m sorry…” she whispered. “Maybe someday he’ll be able to help… If we could just talk to him…”

“He is too close to Chancellor Palpatine, and I am now an enemy of the Republic…”

“I still can’t believe how easily they turned on you…”

He sighed and shrugged one shoulder, as if resigned to fate. “When I stepped down from the Order, I was just a General. A soldier. And soldiers, from the point of view of the Galactic Republic, are expected to follow orders. Only a Jedi is permitted or expected to act on the inherent laws of what is good. And I truly believe that Anakin was doing what he believed was right.”

By his tone, she knew Obi-Wan did not find comfort in that. 

He sighed and smiled. “But we are dwelling on things that we cannot control… I would much rather be _here…”_ he took her hand, kissing her palm again. “… _here_ and _now…”_

The chaste kiss to her hand sent a tingle through her whole body and she couldn’t help smiling again. “If you’re going to get me to stop talking politics, you’ll have to use a better distraction than that…” she teased.

The challenge was accepted in a smirk, and he gently but firmly pulled her to him, mouths meeting in a deep, sensuous kiss. It wasn’t long before hands wandered and blood was racing through their veins again. They still had the rest of the night ahead of them…


	18. Chapter 18

She slept so soundly that the real world felt like a bad dream. When she awoke in her own bed, the dawn not quite arrived, she was melted into the arms that were around her from behind, her back against his chest, his beard brushing her shoulder. No clothes, only flesh and tangled legs, her hair a bit twisted. She lay awake in wonder, listening to what Obi-Wan Kenobi sounded like fast asleep. For years she had wondered and daydreamed about it, and now she knew. Steady, deep breaths, and once or twice she heard a snore and she smiled. She always knew he was deeply human beneath the Jedi shell.

Carefully, so very carefully, she rolled over in his arms so that she could look at him. His face was half buried in the pillow, his auburn hair standing up and tousled from the long night they spent together. So, this was what it felt like to give into attachments. She was heartbroken when she heard he had left the Jedi Order, but just for this moment, she was selfishly happy that he did.

Light was beginning to pierce through the blinds of her room as the sun rose over the cityscape, and she could more clearly see him. He showed no signs of stirring, the morning was still young and they had nowhere to be for a few hours. So, she snuggled in against him, kissing his collar bone and sighing heavily as she began to doze off again, content… happy… in love….

* * *

_“Good morning, my lady!”_

He woke with a jolt, a hand instinctively stretching out to grab a weapon wasn’t there. “In the name of—” He grunted and squinted up with bleary eyes to see a gold human-shaped thing with glowing round eyes. That could be none other than C-3PO. “Oh, it’s you…”

Padme had sat up with a loud gasp, holding the blanket to cover her bare chest, her curled hair a spilled mess over her shoulders. Now that she was sitting up, he had a view of her back. It was only now that he realized she had scars, faint but raised lines across her back from the nexu on Geonosis. In his groggy state, he mindlessly laid his hand on her warm back, as if he could smooth away the marks.

C-3PO tilted in the other direction. “Representative Bail Organa is here, my lady… And good morning to you, Master Keno—”

“Quiet, Threepio!” Padme whispered harshly, looking towards the door.

“Oh! I am sorry… Would you like me to ask Senator Organa to return another time…?”

Padme pushed her hair from her face, rubbing at her eyes as she seemed to be shaking off the fog of sleep. Obi-Wan for his part felt quite content to lie there beside her, stroking the softness of her back, the blanket over him, and his body fatigued in the most wonderful way, his auburn hair in all directions. 

She looked over her shoulder at him and he couldn’t help smiling to her. She looked heavenly in the morning, in a way he never could have imagined, with the circles under her eyes and the confused look of sleep and panic on her face. She was the farthest thing from the trussed up politician most of the world got to see, and she had never looked more luminous to him.

“Obi-Wan…” she said quietly. “Bail and I are meeting with other senators in secret this morning…”

Other senators? In secret? Here he was thinking he was the only one acting with brazen treachery. He finally sat up beside her, the blanket pooling into his lap. He raked his fingers through his own messy hair, pressing it back down with semi-success. The way she was looking at him, he could feel that she wanted him to come with her to meet the senators.

“It would be safest if no one knew I was here…” he whispered, scooting closer to her in the bed. “Not even Organa…”

He nuzzled his forehead against her temple, his lashes brushing her cheek.

Her breathing hitched and she pinched her eyes closed, a tear escaping down her cheek. The dream they shared of being together, seemingly forever, was dashed away this morning and reality was returning with a vengeance. 

“Then what will you do?” she asked quietly, her palm touching at his cheek, as if to keep him there against her.

“I will have to sneak out through the back and hope that they hadn’t noticed the speeder there…”

“Actually, Master Kenobi…” C-3PO said helpfully. “I have taken it upon myself to move your speeder into the parking hangar where it is safer. I.. do hope that was the right course of action, my lady…”

Obi-Wan pulled away from his nuzzling with Padme and the two of them stared at the droid. “Then sneaking away is out of the question…”

“You can wait here until they’re gone…” Padme suggested. She was taking his hand now, as if to pin him in place. “Threepio, please tell Senator Organa I’ll be with him shortly. Obi-Wan…. Wait here…” Padme said urgently as she crawled off the mattress, taking the blanket with her and leaving Obi-Wan naked on the bed. “I can keep the meeting short… Please just wait…”

She ran out of sight into the luxurious bathroom where the sound of running water could then be heard. Obi-Wan decided to dress while he waited. After a few minutes, the water stopped running, and he heard the blast of a dryer. She rushed from the bathroom in a silken robe, her hair blown dry and into a voluminous puff that bounced as she vanished into her closet.

He didn’t have the benefit of a shower just now, and he moved to a mirror to attempt to tame the mussed hair atop his head, using his fingers to comb it back into its dignified part on the left side of his head. He frowned hard at his reflection, spotting a few unwanted growths in his beard that needed some trimming.

“Maybe one day I can learn your morning routine…” 

The melancholic tone of her voice drew his attention and he found her staring at him with a soft smile. She was dressed already in a simple, but elegant gown, her fingers deftly fastening a headdress over her unruly curls and efficiently hiding them. She had even touched on a little make up.

She stole to his side again, her fingers ghosting along his cheek and jaw before she kissed him and pulled away with pain in her eyes. “ _Please_ wait here…”

She stepped out of the room and he heard her greet Bail Organa… then there was another voice, one that he was less familiar with but realized belonged to Senator Mon Mothma.

“I apologize for my tardiness…” Padme said to them.

“It is no trouble, Senator…” Mon Mothma said softly.

Though she asked him to wait, he knew with cold clarity that he couldn’t. Every moment that he was in her quarters was a danger to her. He needed to get off the planet before anyone realized he was even there. To protect her, he needed to get as far away from her as possible. But in order to leave, he would have to pass through the lobby full of senators, to get to the elevator that would take him to where C-3PO had parked his speeder. Leave it to a droid to make his life more difficult.

Obi-Wan found his helmet, goggles, and mask, fastening them on quickly and strolling right out of the room. The gait he affected was one that he mimicked from the most cocky, fearless person he had ever known—Anakin—and he sauntered right out into the lobby. The three senators sat together on the facing couches, drinks in their hands, their eyes wide as they all looked at him. No one’s eyes were as large as Padme’s, and she was white as a sheet.

While it wouldn’t be breaking news for any senator to have an amore in their apartment, if it was known that Senator Amidala was sleeping with the fugitive General Kenobi, it would go from scandal to treason. And if Bail Organa _suspected_ anything between them, it was better for everyone not to confirm anything to him. Politicians found safety in ignorance.

He put on a demonstration of shrugging on his jacket, to show that he was finishing dressing, and he threw a two-finger salute from his brow to them without a word. They were staring, stunned, and he was almost to the doors when he heard Bail Organa call out:

“Master Kenobi, wait!”

He froze, one foot through the doors. And here Obi-Wan thought his disguise was flawless. Wonderful. He slowly turned and saw Bail walking towards him, a little flustered and apologetic, his hands together.

“I am… truly sorry,” he winced with every word. “I understand that you were striving for discretion, and I do not mean to embarrass you… but will you please join us?”

Obi-Wan stared at him, his own face a blank façade of goggles and mask, and he deliberated on pretending not to know what he was talking about, maybe shout at him in Huttese, and be on his way. But he knew Bail wanted him in this fight, and he wanted the same. Padme approached too, wide-eyed and cautious behind Bail. He knew he couldn’t flee now.

Obi-Wan sighed heavily and threw up one defeated hand, letting it slap lightly on his thigh. He pulled off the goggles, then the helmet and mask, and Bail visibly let out a breath of relief to see that he had not guessed wrong.

He followed Bail back into the lobby of Padme’s apartment where Mon Mothma was still sitting, contentedly sipping at her drink, though there was a twinkle of amusement in her eye. This was embarrassing, and yet strangely liberating. The façade of being a chaste monk of the Jedi Order had been shattered here and now.

Padme, meanwhile, was admirable as always in maintaining her aloof countenance, calm and collected, though her cheeks were a very lovely shade of pink and her eyes seemed to have little flames of rage in them. Perhaps he should have listened to her and stayed put.

“Please, Master Kenobi…” Bail gestured to an empty seat.

“There is no need to call me master any more, Senator…” Obi-Wan sat down, a hand pushing the loose strands of auburn from his eyes. “As you know, I have left the Order…”

“Ah... yes. Apologies. Old habits…” Bail looked between Padme and Mon Mothma, a small smile on his face. “Obi-Wan Kenobi has been one of my greatest contacts…”

“It’s a great risk speaking to him,” Mon Mothma pointed out, but didn’t seem to share in the concern of the sentiment.

“It’s dangerous,” Padme added as she sat down across from him, seeming to be careful about not sitting too near.

“Well… seeing as he is already _here_ …” Mon Mothma eyed Padme with implication, sipping her drink again.

“Again,” Bail cleared his throat. “That is not our business…”

“What we need to be discussing…” Padme said firmly. “…is what is to be done with the information that Obi-Wan has brought us.”

“It’s proof that the Republic attacked an innocent party. Whether it means that there is corruption behind this or pure negligence, this may be enough to at least give the

Chancellor’s sycophants pause in voting more power into his hands.” Bail said excitedly.

“Best case scenario, it might incentivize a nullification of some of the recent amendments that have taken power from the Senate,” added Padme.

“But how could we make certain other senators see it without it tracking back to us? We would be arrested for treason,” Mon Mothma said.

“Could the Jedi help?” Padme looked between Obi-Wan and Bail.

Bail glanced to Obi-Wan, but he had difficulty holding his gaze. The former Jedi could feel the twinge of shame before Bail even spoke.

“The fact is… We don’t truly know where the corruption ends… I mean no offense to you, Obi-Wan…”

Corruption among the Jedi? Obi-Wan couldn’t hide the furrow in his brow. “I can tell you honestly, Senator, that in my time among the Order, the council was increasingly apprehensive about Chancellor Palpatine’s control…”

There was more, of course. Count Dooku’s revelation to him all those years ago that there was a Sith controlling the Senate was coming back to him. But he didn’t dare speak of it. There was no telling where the Sith Lord’s influence reached, and he did not dare to tell these Senators something that could tip off the Sith, or put them in danger.

“And then there has been talk of trying to remove the Jedi influence from the senate completely,” Padme pointed out.

“How do we know the Jedi wouldn’t want the control for themselves?” Mon Mothma drew their attention with her direct speculation. “We simply cannot know.”

“Much could have changed since you were a Jedi, Obi-Wan…” Bail said apologetically. “These are troubling times for everyone.”

He realized he did not have a leg to stand on in defending the Jedi. Especially with the degree of disillusionment that he suffered when he surrendered his lightsaber. All of this left him rather incredulous.

“The Senate cannot possibly control the Jedi, that would be impossible… The Jedi serve the Republic, their function is alongside the Senate, not beneath them.”

“Many see the Jedi as arrogant and above the laws of the Republic…” Mon Mothma said gently, and he knew she did not agree with the sentiment.

“And with Skywalker so close to the Chancellor, we do not dare provoke him or the other Jedi…” Bail sighed. “Particularly since it was the Five-oh-First that destroyed Renoss under his command…”

It was all in the recordings. Somehow, it wasn’t until this moment that Obi-Wan truly realized that the data disk was not just damning for the Chancellor, but for Anakin as well. This was an attack on the reputation of the war’s poster boy, the hero of the Republic. His apprentice, his friend and brother. He did not intend to drag his former padawan into it, but it there was no avoiding it. Anakin truly was a hero, Obi-Wan never disputed that. But on the moon, Renoss, they both made their choices.

“Then we will not involve the Jedi…” Padme concluded. “Perhaps there is a way to anonymously distribute it to the senators whom we know are the most nonpartisan, whose votes could sway in our favor...”

“But how?” asked Mon Mothma. “Anonymous information is the most easily discredited.”

He felt something that unsettled him. The uncertainty that unraveled the air around them became suddenly still and cohesive at one particular point… Around Padme. Whatever

she was thinking, she was resolved on it.

“I’ll do it,” Padme said suddenly. “At the next Senate meeting.”

“No.” Obi-Wan said before she even finished speaking.

Her brows rose as she looked at him, insulted. “Excuse me?”

“It’s political—and very likely _literal_ —suicide, Padme. I cannot allow you to do that.”

“Neither can I,” Bail added.

But Padme was alarmingly calm about it all. “The senate knows my stance on this war. It’s up to me to be the voice for it, to perhaps provide credibility for it. If I do it… I can’t be seen conferring with any of you outside of the Senate Building from here on, so that I don’t affect your positions.”

Obi-Wan’s jaw clenched. He didn’t like how cavalier she was about making herself a target. But then, she never was afraid of danger if there was just cause for it, and if there was a cause worth taking risks for, it was this. She had already lectured him for the same thing and couldn’t quite find it in him to yell at her for it.  
By the silence of the other two senators, they too saw that this might have been the easiest, most effective way.

“To say nothing of the fact that if anything were to happen to me after I’ve shown this to the senate, it would stir speculation of conspiracy and cover up. I’m not afraid to be public about my opposition towards the recent amendments.”

Obi-Wan breathed in slowly through his nose as he listened to her, hating every good point that she was making. She leveled her gaze on him, but this time it wasn’t challenging or defiant. Her eyes were soft, a silent request of trust.

Did he trust her? With his life.

More than that, he trusted her with the galaxy.

“There must be another alternative…” Bail filled the silence.

Obi-Wan never took his eyes from Padme. He nodded to her, so subtly only she would see, and she knew that he was behind her, the plea of her gaze becoming gratitude.

“Then you must present it to the Senate without any prior warning…” Obi-Wan said calmly. “There cannot be any hint that you are bringing this.”

“Agreed,” she said fearlessly.

“They will also know that you received the information from me. The implications will be harmful to your reputation…”

“It’s no secret that we’ve been friends all these years, Obi-Wan…” she managed a small smile.

“No… but I have not always been a traitor to the Republic…”

“I’ve had worse accusations thrown at me. I can handle myself.” He knew she was right. Politics were her battlefield, and a battlefield he would never survive.

“And for goodness sake…” Obi-Wan sighed. “Do _not_ tell Jar Jar.”

Padme almost smiled. “I’ll do what I can to protect him from the consequences…” She then looked to Bail. “Do you have the data disk, Senator?”

Bail Organa’s mouth opened, closed, and opened again and he looked to Mon Mothma for help. The latter looked with resignation to him, her face saying it all. She too agreed with the risk. Bail finally sighed with defeat and slipped his hand into his robe. He pulled out the data disk and set it on the table between them.

“I would like it to be known that I am adamantly against this…” said Bail.

Any intention that Obi-Wan had of leaving Coruscant to go into hiding was completely gone. He knew his purpose now. He needed to stay and protect her. She had just taken the fight into her own hands.

Bail Organa and Mon Mothma took their leave and Obi-Wan remained on the couch, elbows on his knees, his hand lightly stroking his beard. This entire matter was hopelessly clouded and convoluted. Any action could spiral into catastrophic consequence. But if nothing was done, the Galactic Republic would continue to quickly mutate into something unrecognizable.

Padme moved close beside him, her fingers gently raking the hair at the nape of his neck in a way that made him shudder.

“I can tell you’re unhappy with my decision, Obi-Wan, but it is _my_ decision…”

“I know, Padme…” he managed a faint smile as he turned towards her, setting his hand atop her own. “But there is more to this. There may also be another power at play here.”

“What do you mean?” Padme asked slowly.

“When I was captured by Count Dooku on Geonosis, he had told me there was a Sith in control of the Senate. There was nothing to support it, the Jedi had sensed nothing, and I knew he was attempting to manipulate me into joining him… but being here now, back at the Capital, I cannot deny that I feel more of a presence of the Dark Side…”

“You can still sense those things?” she asked. “Even though you’re not a Jedi?”

Obi-Wan’s brows rose and he wanted to smile at her, but he did not want to insult her. It was such an innocent question from someone who was not well-versed the ways of the Jedi. “The Force exists all around us, regardless of the Jedi. I choose to close myself off from it, but it exists in every corner of the universe, of this very room. There is certainly something dark that is clouding the Force around this world, tendrils of it reaching out throughout the galaxy.”

There was a heavy silence, perhaps she was skeptical.

“I am sure the Jedi are more aware of this than I am,” he added. “If there is a Sith controlling the senate, they will find him. Because the Sith move in secret and in the dark, you cannot breathe of a word of this to anyone.”

“Then why are you telling me?”

“Because if I am going to fight by your side, then there cannot be secrets.”

He no longer had the Jedi Order or the Republican Army to give his allegiance to. All he had was Padme Amidala, and he could think of no better flag to fly than hers, for she was the embodiment of everything he believed in.

He placed his lips gently to hers, sealing his oath to her.


	19. Chapter 19

“The chair recognizes Senator Amidala of Naboo…” The commanding voice of Mas Amedda echoed out into the vast Grand Convocation Chamber of the Senate Building’s rotunda, the Speaker’s Staff firmly in his hand.

Padme took in a quiet, deep breath and guided her repulsorpod forward. The only other body in the pod with her was Jar Jar Binks, whose head was wobbling to and fro with confusion. For his own sake, and perhaps especially her own, she didn’t tell the Gungan what she planned to do today. After all these years of attending political events together, the well-meaning but not-so-sharp Gungan had learned to be quiet and sit still.

Spy droids hovered around her to record every moment.

“Before I address my purpose to the Senate, I would like to preface that my associate, Representative Binks, has not been informed of this prior…” There as a stirring of curiosity among the hive of senators, but they were quiet. The sleepiest politicians were now awake. “Two days ago, an anonymous delivery was made to my personal living quarters here on Coruscant… It was a data disk that had been salvaged from an astromech droid that was present at the recent campaign to Renoss. What I found in its memory drive was alarming. It contained recordings and military reports.”

The senators were quiet, clearly not yet aware of what the relevance of this was just yet.

“As you know…” she continued strongly. “… there was a great controversy surrounding the Republic’s victory over the Separatist base located there, due to the discharge and arrest of our own General Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“If you had military information, you should have surrendered it to the Republican Army…” Mas Amedda said.

“Senator,” Palpatine’s croaky voice easily carried to her, calm and patient. “What is your concern regarding Renoss?”

“My concern does not need much more elaboration, Chancellor… I only ask my noble colleagues to please look to their viewscreens as I transmit to you what I had found on that disk…”

All manner of eyes and faces looked to their screens. Playing before them were the hologram recordings of General Kenobi and his reconnaissance of the planet, proof of the absence of any Separatist base. Padme had only watched this once the night before, and she felt a sudden new terror in showing them here in front of thousands of diplomats.

Though it was only a small projection of Obi-Wan’s image on every senator’s repulsorpod, she felt a fear that she was handing him over to their judgment. But even in that small recording of him giving his report of the peaceful Renossians, or the recording of his negotiations with the Renossian Queen, his calm demeanor and surety gave her confidence now, in the harsh environment of the senate.

There was a scramble in the Chancellor’s podium, of Mas Amedda leaning his blue head in close with Chancellor Palpatine, the old man looking concerned, but not frightened or angry. Padme was watching them now as they quietly conversed. There was growing noise through the rotunda, and Mas Amedda finally clanged the Speaker’s staff on the platform.

“Order!” he bellowed out. When enough of the senators were quiet he continued sternly. “Senator Amidala, you did not present this data to the committee before bringing it here! What are your intentions in doing so?”

“If the Chancellor and his council are as surprised by this new information as I was upon receiving it, then say it now,” Padme felt herself growing more bold with the resonance of the alarm and indignation that was filling the senate.

“The council will not recognize this treasonous information that could easily be falsified!”

There was an indecipherable roar of voices at the word ‘treasonous’, but they hushed enough for Padme to speak.

“I have put before you objective truth, Senators! A peaceful planet has been _decimated_ because of false reports of an enemy outpost! The Renossians have no representative in this senate, they were forced into a war they wanted nothing to do with. General Kenobi knew that there was no Separatist outpost and attempted peaceful negotiations with Queen Piv Trogante. By his own report, he was only serving the Republic by trying to prevent a tragic mistake and upholding the peace that we have so desperately been striving for!”

“Shouldn’t we expect our generals to follow orders?” a loyalist Senator called out.

“Especially a Jedi!” another senator added.

“Senators!” Bail Organa was speaking now. “Because General Kenobi was once a Jedi, isn’t that all the more reason to believe that he would not betray the Republic?”

“Ah! _Former_ Jedi!” a Nemoidian pointed accusingly across the chamber.

“Was Count Dooku not a Jedi once?” shouted another.

Padme felt sick. Bail should not have mentioned the Jedi aspect of it, there was already enough suspicion against the Jedi Order.

“But he was vying for peace!” she heard her friend Fang Zar add somewhere, though she could not make out his pod in the sea of lights.

“If Renoss was innocent, then why were there Separatists there at all? We lost countless clones in that battle against the droid army!”

“Did you not listen to the report? There were Separatist refugees there! That would be enough to draw Grievous there!”

“They were Nemoidians! Did the Trade Federation know that some of their own were on that moon?”

The Nemoidians were jabbering amongst themselves. “We demand an investigation!”

“Vote for an investigative committee!”

“Vote! Vote! Vote!” They were chanting now, fists, paws, tentacles raised.

“Order!” Mas Amedda was banging his stick again. The shouting between platforms had escalated into sheer noise. “Order!”

It took quite some time for the noise to calm, and Palpatine looked sad but calm as ever.

“Esteemed Senators, please… And Senator Amidala… I assure you that I am deeply disturbed by this information. While an investigation would clear up the matter, there are more pressing issues on our table. The Separatists have an advantage over us in the war and we cannot afford to be distracted or further divided… We must be united now more than ever if we are to win this war and attain peace. Senator Amidala, I must ask again: For what purpose are you presenting this information?”

Though his tone was ever-calm and ever-humble, she detected for the first time something scathing… something that was inciting her to place her head under the axe and say something indisputably treasonous. She glanced to Bail Organa and he was calm, but there was desperation in his eyes. She needed to choose her words carefully. Even if Palpatine wanted to protect her from her own foolishness, she knew he would be powerless if the rest of the senate decided she was a traitor.

“My purpose, Senators, is that this tragic event may be reason to restore democratic power to the senate. The war continues, and we vote more and more emergency powers away. Decisions such as the one to invade Renoss were made by a select few and not the majority. With each bill, more and more powers are taken from us. The Chancellor is right that we must be united now. But the unified voice of the Senate cannot be one individual. It must be a chorus—all of our voices—if we are to be a _true_ democracy…”

The senators that she considered friends, who were against the Chancellor’s powers, raised the loudest cheer, calling for democracy, and she thought perhaps there were new voices in there. It was impossible to tell in the din, but there were equally those who wanted more power in the hands of the Supreme Chancellor, for ‘real progress’ to be made.

“In light of this shocking information…” Chancellor Palpatine addressed the Senate, “we will reconvene for a vote on whether or not to pursue the investigation… Though I must remind the Senate that we still have the amendment on the de-regulation bill to vote on, as well as the issue of the Banking Clan’s proposed interest rates, as were discussed earlier… These things are more pressing in the war than an incident that is _already resolved_ … This meeting is adjourned.”

And just like that it was swept away like a pile of dust.

The Chancellor had the final word, and they were dismissed. All the pods that were afloat re-docked, and in a massive wave of movement, the thousands of senators and representatives vacated the chamber. Padme stayed in her pod, feeling strangely cold and bewildered.

“Dat was berry nutsen! What do yousa thinken will happenen?”

Padme’s throat felt tight. “I don’t know. But _something_ has to.”

“Yousa comen, Senator?” Jar Jar asked as he stepped off the platform.

“Go ahead, Jar Jar…” she said distractedly, sitting down. “We’ll talk later…”

The Gungan nodded and ambled away, leaving Padme alone in her platform, the silence of the empty chamber closing in on her.

What if she made a mistake?

* * *

  
If there was one thing that Obi-Wan excelled at, it was patience. He was good at waiting, even if that didn’t necessarily mean he enjoyed it. And he was cooped up here in Padme’s apartment, the blinds closed, and only C-3PO to keep him company. Not the most agreeable companionship, even if the droid was programmed to be agreeable.

The HoloNet was quiet. It was often the main source for any information on what happened in the senate meetings and it was strangely uninformative. Perhaps Padme’s address was dragging the session later, which was very likely. Or she was arrested and they were coming for him now. Well, he was ready for it.

He was ready for any eventuality, so he chose to meditate. On the open veranda of Padme’s apartment, he seated himself in the middle of the painted circles of the floor. It seemed to be as good as place as any to put oneself, it was very structured. The trickling fountain and the majority of the veranda was behind him, the open balcony and the city in front, the sun casting a golden glow on the skyline. The apartment had a security shield around it, preventing any unwanted visitors, but it did not block out the wind, for which Obi-Wan was grateful. The breeze from this altitude was welcoming, it was a physical reminder of the Force.

He was on his knees, eyes closed. He knew he didn’t have the perceptions of Mace Windu, or Master Yoda, or Qui-Gon Jinn. But even he could still feel that constant disturbance in the Force. It wasn’t quite an itch, or even a thorn in the side. It was akin to that feeling of being watched. Unsettling, constant, threatening, and every time you try to look there is nothing. Wherever the Dark Side slithered, the Force was stirred into erratic eddies, churned out of its natural stream.

He could feel it now more than ever. The Force was reacting to something, like ripples where a pebble was cast. Was it from Padme’s speech to the Senate? The Sith Lord was probably in that chamber with her at this moment. His hands tightened into fists, but just for a moment.

He did not feel danger, though the Dark Side did not make intuition very effective. Otherwise they would have caught the Sith Lord years ago. But he could sense the great unease in the capital. The collective reaction of the Senators was strong enough to reach him. It meant there might be some results at last.

“Obi-Wan…” Padme’s voice was beside him, her hand on his shoulder.

He opened his eyes and it was dark out. He hadn’t been asleep, only carried away by his thoughts.

“I didn’t want to disturb you, but you have been here for three hours…” she said softly, her knuckles brushing his jaw.

Indeed, she wasn’t even wearing her senate gown anymore, she had changed into her night gown.

“I’m so sorry,” he almost laughed, a little embarrassed at getting so deep into meditation that he ignored her arrival home. He pulled his legs out from under himself… and flopped onto his butt with a hiss. His legs were completely numb. “Oh, not again…” he groaned, rubbing at his thigh.

Padme’s hand went to her mouth, hiding a smile.

He preferred it when people only knew about the spiritual ruminations of Jedi, their placid meditation and the profound thoughts that were born of it. It was better that people didn’t know a Jedi had to contend with numb body parts when they forgot to keep the blood circulating.

“The Senate…” he winced as the feeling came clawing back into his leg like tiny spikes of electricity, a hand rubbing along his thigh to wake it up. Though everything was numb, the dull ache of his leg injury was still there. “What happened?”

She gracefully sat on the floor beside him. “They called for a vote to investigate. Then the Senate was adjourned until further notice…”

He nodded pensively. “These things rarely have immediate results… But the seed was planted. The other senators now know, and we can only hope that they find the right thing to do with the knowledge… Ah!”

Now his legs were throbbing with the blood returning to them.

“I haven’t done this to myself since…” Now he remembered, and he blushed. “Well…. Since our flight back from Saskiel…” When they shared that tiny cockpit together—when they first kissed.

She smiled again, also blushing. “Couldn’t you mediate somewhere more comfortable...?”

He followed her gaze to the multitude of cushioned seats on the veranda. “Oh… I hadn’t thought about it.”

The way she laughed told him she thought he was joking, and the fact that he wasn’t, made him laugh with her. In the face of the tension surrounding them with politics and Sith Lords, her laughter was a healing tonic.

He finally had feeling back in his legs and he carefully got to his feet, putting his weight on his good leg, a hand extending to help her off the floor as well. She pulled him to the curved couch and urged him to sit. She then pulled in her legs and curled up beside him, her head on his shoulder, her arms around him tightly, and his around her. She felt so small at the moment, and she was so quiet with apprehension. He could not blame her. Everything was in the air right now, and when or where it would fall, no one could know.

The longer they sat here, the less anxiety he felt from her. Her shoulders rose and fell heavily with a beautiful sigh and he placed a kiss on her forehead, his lips lingering there.

For just this moment, they were content. Everything felt peaceful.

He could feel the weight of her as she began to nod off, her breathing gradually getting deeper with sleep. In her exhaustion, she didn’t even stir when he gathered her into his arms. He carried her to her room, his fingers moving subtly under her knees to push the sheets and blankets aside with the Force. He laid her down, and with his own hands pulled the blankets over her, warm and cozy.

He undressed and crawled into the bed with her, wrapping his arms around her. She scooted against him, her body fitting perfectly against his, his nose buried in her soft hair.

She was asleep in moments, but he lay awake.

The Force was quaking. Everything felt… misaligned. It made him restless. He tried to sleep, he pinched his eyes closed, focused in on her breathing, her warmth, but the bad feeling continued to grow.

_Get up._

The instinct was so powerful that it was a voice as clear as his own in his head. He stopped resisting it and opened his mind to it.

_Get up now. Look out._

He quickly, but carefully slipped out of bed again, trying not to disturb her even though his hackles were up. The Force moved his feet to the window and he opened the blinds enough to look out over the city. The city sparkled as it always did in the nighttime. With the streams of buzzing ships and speeders, everything looked as peaceful as it ever did in the never-sleeping city. And yet, he couldn’t look away. That feeling was there, holding him. He learned to trust this niggling unease throughout his life, even when his own Master, Qui Gon, had told him not to dwell on these bad feelings.

Something flashed in the sky, like a falling star. It was too far in the distance for him to tell what it was, but its downward trajectory and the bright flashing that winked from it could only be one thing. Obi-Wan had seen enough crashing ships to know what they looked like—crashing or shot down.

Then there was another. There were flashes of what looked like red lightning, and Obi-Wan seen it countless time in his campaigns in the wars, but he never dreamed he would see it in the skies of Coruscant. Those looked like Separatist missiles, and the Force removed any doubt.

“Padme!” he was throwing his clothes back on.

She woke instantly, confusion on her face as it was lit by the flashes outside.

“What’s happening…?”

But she saw for herself. For the first time in a thousand years, Coruscant was under attack.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR’S NOTE: Omg we made it, guys. Revenge of the Sith. Thank you all for sticking through this entire story! And a special thank you to everyone who leaves comments, whether it was just one or one for each chapter, or even just a couple. I may not be able to reply to all of them, but you have no idea how happy it makes me! Comments are the most powerful motivator for a writer to continue, so please never be afraid to leave one! Thank you all for the shared love for Obidala! 

What seemed to be the entire Confederate Navy was coming down on the scant defenses of Coruscant. The sky was a light show of the battle, massive dreadnoughts drifting through the skies, Coruscant fighters engaging in dogfights with droid fighters. Coruscant was not prepared. As a fiery dawn was breaking and the battle raged on, the news broke on the HoloNet: 

The Supreme Chancellor had been kidnapped.

It was unthinkable that Count Dooku, or even the erratic General Grievous, would be so brazen.

The citizens of Coruscant could do nothing but contend with the fallout of the war in the skies, buildings were struck with debris, occasional turbolaser fire hitting from the stratosphere in wayward shots, but there was no direct attack on the city planet. Just the small strike force that had taken the Chancellor.

Padme had tried to leave, to go help somewhere, even if she didn’t even know where, but Obi-Wan convinced her to stay. The attack wasn’t on the planet, she was safest where she was. And for his part, he could do nothing. He had no ship to jump in, he didn’t even have a side in this battle, though Padme knew he was itching to _do something_.

She could see that look, a pained hardness in his face, when the HoloNet announced that some Jedi were being recalled from their distant campaigns in the Outer Rim. He did not need to say it for her to know that he felt he should have been there. Generals and their clone troopers were coming to save the day, and they arrived as quickly as possible, one battalion at a time. Then there was the comment, a rumor, a remark in the HoloNet that General Skywalker himself was there, leading the rescue mission for the Supreme Chancellor.

Padme couldn’t believe he was being sent on this alone, but Obi-Wan seemed to have more confidence in his former padawan.

“The moment you believe he won’t be enough, he has already taken steps to prove you wrong…” Though he too was concerned, he almost smiled as he said it.  
Anakin had become the solo beacon in the war of what the Republic stood for, a daring general, a powerful Jedi warrior, young and handsome with a slave-to-fame reputation.

He was their only hope to bring Chancellor Palpatine back alive.

And he did.

The battle over Coruscant was long and destructive, leaving a few buildings and districts on the city-planet in flame and ruins. All anyone could talk about afterward was how Anakin Skywalker singlehandedly rescued the Chancellor, and achieved an impossible crash landing of the remaining half of Count Dooku’s massive cruiser, the _Invisible Hand_ , so that he and the aged chancellor were able to walk away almost without a scratch. General Grievous fled with what was left of his fleet.

Padme was fortunate that the district where she lived was more or less untouched by the battle, but the spires of smoke that rose into the atmosphere could be seen in every direction. Along with the rest of the inhabitants of the capital, she was struck with the sensation of being violated by this attack. She too had fallen under that false sense of security, that no enemy would dare attack the capital, since no one had in a thousand years. Many, including her, had felt the icy reality that their leader, Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, could have died today, and the Republic would have fallen to shambles.

Palpatine was alive and well, and Anakin Skywalker was the hero of the Republic more than ever. It wasn’t until that evening, the skies filled with smoke and ash, that the news broke that during his daring rescue, Anakin had defeated and killed Count Dooku.

Even Padme felt that surge of hope at the news that perhaps the end of the war really was in sight. Now was the time to see if Palpatine truly intended on giving the power back to the people, as he had promised time and time again. Somewhere inside her, she held on tightly to a scrap of trust for her old advisor, a foolish belief that maybe he was the dependable man she took him for when she was a young queen. 

That trust was finally irreparably broken mere days later with the passing of the “Sector Governance Decree” where the Chancellor appointed governors to systems, crossing the line from leader to dictator. A governor was placed in every system, who would answer directly to him.

Within days, Bail Organa, Mon Mothma, Fang Zar, and a handful of other Loyalist politicians had gathered in secret in Bail’s office. They decided that things had finally turned a corner, and they could no longer sit back and only act on half measures. Their most daring act up until now—Padme’s decision to present Obi-Wan’s data disk to the Senate—had no obvious results and the Senate meeting was postponed further due to the attack. They needed to act as a whole if anything was to be done about the usurpation of power.

Together, they drafted a petition and gathered enough signatures from the Senate to form the Delegation of the 2000. As a committee, they would openly challenge the Chancellor. 

Padme was sure to lead a few of the members of the committee to his office only days after his rescue, to discuss the end of the war. He looked tired, but undaunted by the pack of senators that he was faced with. 

Standing behind Palpatine’ tall-backed chair, wrapped in his dark cloak and silent as a statue, was Anakin. It was highly unusual that a Jedi should be present at a meeting like this. His hair had grown so much longer than the last time she saw him, it was a mane over his neck, swooped handsomely over his forehead. She didn’t know his hair had such a wave to it. There was a rather jarring scar along his eye, however, that reminded her of how much time, and how much war was between them now. His obedient stance made him look like some kind of guard beast at Palpatine’s elbow. The great hero of the war, a lap dog.

Looping in her mind was the knowledge that it was his battalion that had decimated Renoss, and that he had arrested his own master. She was not so sure this was the same boy she knew before, if she had ever truly known him. She could not bear to look at him during this meeting, though she was sure she felt his eyes flicker over her from time to time as she spoke with Palpatine. There was never a time in their history together that she didn’t know when he was looking at her.

“I understand your reservations completely, Senator, and I assure you the appointment of governors will in no way compete with the duties of the Senate…” Palpatine spoke so genially, in the way that comforted her in the past. 

“May I take it, then, that there will be no further amendments to the constitution?” She was pushing for a direct answer.

“I want this terrible conflict to end just as much as you do, my lady...” he did not say yes or no. “And when it does, I guarantee an immediate return to democracy.”

“You are pursuing a diplomatic solution to the war then?”

Her lack of submission chipped away at the familial warmth, leaving something much colder. “You must trust me to do the right thing, Senator. That is why I am here.”

“But surely—” Fang Zar tried to add his own protests, but a sharp look and tone from the Chancellor immediately silenced him.

“ _I have said_ I will do what is right,” Palpatine did not need to raise his voice. “That should be enough for your… _committee_.”

The disdain that dripped from the Chancellor’s lips was unsettling. The man she had trusted throughout her career was looking at her, for even just a glance, as something to be crushed under a shoe. 

“One final question, Chancellor…” she never diverted her gaze from him, even as she watched the forced politeness utterly peel away from his features. “When can we expect the next Senate meeting? The issues that are in dire need of debate are stacking up, including some kind of response to the Renoss incident…”

“You will be informed of the next Senate meeting.”

He clipped his words so short, she knew she was getting under his skin. This was as good a time as any to conclude the conversation, before she crossed the line from persistent to antagonistic.

She rose from her seat, maintaining a fearless stare and a polite tone. “On behalf of the Delegation of Two-Thousand: I thank you, Chancellor.”

“I thank _you_ for bringing this to my attention, Senator…” He touched the petition on the viewscreen on his desk, which they had put in front of him.

The senators made a cold farewell to the Chancellor and filed out of the room, and that was when she made the mistake of glancing to Anakin. Their gazes met, the blue of his eyes hitting her like a flash of lightning. She could not walk out of that vast office fast enough.

All she wanted to do was return home, where Obi-Wan waited for her. But she had to go to her senatorial office and finish her preliminary readings of bills that had been sent to all the senators for the next Senate meeting— A meeting that was not even scheduled. 

She and the other Senators went their separate ways to their own offices in the massive Republic Executive Building. C-3PO was waiting dutifully for her in her office. The moment she sat down behind her large desk in the rather empty office, she had to fight the urge to call Obi-Wan, just to see a comforting face. But paranoia crept in, and she would not risk her calls being monitored. 

To focus her mind, she got to work. She sent Threepio outside of the office to vet any callers who might come and disturb her. After nearly two hours of quiet work, it was her protocol droid’s electronic voice that disturbed her thoughts. She couldn’t hear his words, but the droid was expressing a positive reaction to someone.

The door opened and C-3PO shuffled in energetically. “Oh, my lady! You will not be able to guess who is here to see you!”

And strolling in from behind the gold droid was a tall, cloaked figure.

“It’s Master Anakin!” Threepio faced the Jedi. “It is wonderful to see you again! The Maker!”

Anakin hardly acknowledged the droid. He only looked at her, and she could not read his face. Anakin, who had always worn his feelings on his sleeve, was unreadable.

“Anakin…” She managed a smile, even if he didn’t. “Welcome home… It’s so good to see you—"

Two fully armored clone troopers marched in from behind, stopping at attention one step behind on each side of him, their blaster rifles in both hands, but not aimed. Her smile vanished.

“What is the meaning of this?” She spoke in her indignant politician voice to conceal the fear that iced over her.

“Senator Amidala…” Anakin spoke to her like she was a stranger. “Your presentation at the last senate meeting raised some questions about the source of that data disk… and your own loyalty to the Republic.”

Her heart was in her stomach. “It was my duty to share that information. Whoever gave me that disk—”

Anakin raised a hand, the gloved finger that pointed at her was barely visible beneath the sleeve of his dark cloak. “I _know_ who gave it to you…”

“Are you here to arrest me?” She spoke plainly, not confirming or denying, ready for anything.

“No. I’ve come to escort you back to your apartment for a search. Republic Intelligence has reason to believe that I’ll find Obi-Wan Kenobi there.”

“That is ridiculous,” she said sharply. _Run, Obi-Wan… Please, run…_ “I will not not have the Jedi or soldiers in my private space.”

“The Chancellor’s orders were clear.” He turned his shoulder towards her, clearing the way for the door. “This way, Senator.”

Orders. Obi-Wan was right about how uncharacteristic it seemed for Anakin to follow orders so blindly. She held his gaze, hoping he could see her pleading. His breathing hitched, which proved to her that he wasn’t as indifferent as he wanted her to believe, he wasn’t complete stone. Maybe this was still Anakin, after all. Her fear was joined by confusion, but she held her head high. Walking past him, she heard C-3PO’s voice chime in, flustered.

“Ah, my lady? Shall I come, too?”

“I will escort Senator Amidala in my own transport…” Anakin said, finally looking at the droid. “Threepio, you can follow us in her personal speeder to make sure it returns home to her.”

“Well I… I am not completely accustomed to flying, you know… Though I have been practicing…” C-3PO stammered.

“I’m sure you can manage.”

“Ah… yes… Master Anakin….”

Padme walked without a falter in her step, her mind racing, trying to find ways to warn Obi-Wan. Anakin walked alongside her, towering over her, the dark colors of his robes and attire making him seem like a massive dark specter in the corner of her eye. He moved fluidly, boots thudding in rhythm with the two clones who walked silently behind. They were like a well-oiled machine.

It was pure luck that Bail Organa happened to be passing by in the corridor. His eyes were unblinking with poorly concealed alarm as he looked from Padme to her guards and then to Anakin.

“Senator Amidala…” he greeted cordially, but not without bewilderment.

“Senator,” Anakin greeted with a nod. “If you’ll excuse us, we must be on our way…”

Anakin made it sound like they were heading to a nice dinner. Padme wanted to say something to Bail, anything innocuous to conceal her fear, but nothing came out.

“Of course. Senator Amidala… Master Skywalker…” he nodded to each of them, and glanced warily at the faceless clones before he continued on his way.

They went to the hangar where Threepio found her personal speeder and climbed stiffly inside. Anakin led Padme to his own transport, a large, enclosed military speeder bus.

They stepped inside and Anakin waited for her to sit in the co-pilot’s seat before he took the controls. The clones strapped themselves in the compartment behind them. Not a word was spoken as he flew them out into the main traffic, ascending higher above it to the air space that was designated for Republic and Jedi authorities in this time of war.

They didn’t speak, but she could feel Anakin’s gaze constantly diverting from the window to her. There were only a few precious minutes in the flight time between the Senate building and her home.

“Anakin…” she finally broke the harsh silence, though softly, hoping the clones wouldn’t be able to eavesdrop. “You don’t truly believe I would betray the Republic, do you?”

“That remains to be seen…” He was staring hard out the window.

“Don’t do that. Don’t pretend as though you don’t know me at all…” 

He turned his head away from her as he checked the air traffic, skillfully bringing the speeder down to a lower altitude where the traffic was denser, bringing them nearer to her apartment.

“The only thing I _know_ … is my _duty_ …”

She almost couldn’t hear him, he spoke so quietly. And the words themselves, the way that he forced himself to not look at her… He wasn’t alright, she could tell. If the clones weren’t there, she could have spoken more openly with him.

“Anakin…” She hoped if he would only look at her, she could reason with him, or at least appeal to the compassionate Jedi that she thought she knew.

But he had closed her out. He put on the façade of a machine, deaf to her voice, but she could tell by his erratic breathing, the tremble around his mouth, and the flaring of his nose that he was anything but calm. 


	21. Chapter 21

“ _They are on their way to you now, Obi-Wan… you must leave!_ ” Bail was speaking to him via hologram from his personal senatorial office. “ _Anakin Skywalker and two clone troopers. They know!_ ”

“Thank you, Senator…”

“ _Good luck!_ ” Bail ended the transmission, wisely keeping it brief.

Clearly Bail assumed that Obi-Wan would make a run for it. He had no intention of doing that.

He knew Padme and the Delegation met with the Chancellor today. Had it truly gone so badly? And Anakin arresting Padme—with a clone guard? Something was out of place. All of this felt wrong. 

It was admirable for Bail to try to warn him, and Obi-Wan would always remember it. This was not a time to run—not from his former padawan. So, Obi-Wan would wait. If they were coming directly from the Senate building, then it would not be long before they arrived.

Perhaps this would have been as good a time as any to get anxious, but that was not his way. He went to the small balcony that adjoined the lobby, the half circle space at the uppermost floor, and he leaned calmly on its railing to look out over the city in the twilight. The rivers of vehicles and the endless sea of architecture was soothing. He had known this city his entire life, though he knew it much better from the point of view of the Jedi Temple.

There were a lot of things that were once familiar to him, that were like home, but had faded into feeling more like strange dreams. And now one those things was on its way to arrest him.

He could feel Anakin before he even reached the door. The pressure of a storm cloud, the trembling energy of a coiled spring. It was Anakin, alright.

The door opened and Obi-Wan didn’t bother to move from where he was. He was comfortable and he wasn’t afraid.

“Wait out here…” he heard Anakin’s voice, and the bootsteps of troopers faded away. Anakin was coming in alone… Well, without his soldiers, anyway. Padme was with him.

He sensed fear and confusion from her, she must not have known if he was still there or not. Anakin knew, and it was Anakin who made a straight line for the balcony. Obi-Wan turned to greet him with a sad smile.

Anakin had been frowning, but it smoothed, just a little when they were able to see each other at last.

“Hello, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said amiably.

“Traitor.” Anakin choked out the word, and even through the thick layers of his Jedi robes and tabard, his chest could be seen rising and falling heavily. He was practically suffocating on his own emotions. Clearly he had made no improvement in controlling them.

“I am sorry that I escaped you at Renoss,” Obi-Wan spoke genuinely, his voice low and calm to counter the churning passions from his friend. “I did what I had to…”

“You did what you had to…” Anakin repeated slowly. “…to have _her_.”

Still, Anakin’s reality orbited Padme Amidala.

“My actions have been for the Republic.”

“And your _actions_ have dragged her into the mud as well! You once lectured me to let her go if I loved her… I _did_ let her go. I suffered every day— _every hour_ —since then, but I stayed away. And now, I _know_ you just wanted to keep her away from me!”

“Anakin!” Padme appeared from behind him, stepping out onto the balcony, gripping one side of her senatorial skirts so that it didn’t impair her steps. She stood between the two men. “Please, just listen… No one else was keeping us apart. I made that choice for myself.”

She successfully pulled his burrowing gaze away from Obi-Wan, his eyes softening at the mere sight of her, though the frown was still there.

“I know I have a lot to prove to you…” Anakin’s voice was small when he spoke to her. “Things are going to change, Padme…. The Jedi won’t be able to take control of the Senate, like they hoped they would. We know where General Grievous is. When he’s dead, the war will be over… The peace that you’ve been wanting all these years, _I_ am going to bring that for you. Not him. Everything Obi-Wan has done with that data disk, leaving the Order, becoming a fugitive… He’s just _prolonging_ the war! He is continuing the chaos and undoing everything you’ve worked for! Only _I_ can bring peace to the galaxy for you…”

Padme didn’t flinch away as Anakin approached, her head high, but her eyes gentle. “It’s not all up to you, Anakin…”

  
“Isn’t it?” his vision seemed to be tunneled towards her. “The prophecy says that I’ll bring balance and peace… And I will, you’ll see…”

Anakin was stepping closer to her, his flesh hand reaching desperately towards her, and something spiked in Obi-Wan, a burst of what could only have been anger. It was not just a reaction to the young Jedi getting close to her, but towards the frightening tone of resolve in every syllable that Anakin uttered. The way Anakin’s voice seemed to develop layers of ferocity.

“Is the desolation of Renoss the kind of _peace_ that you intend to bring?” Obi-Wan’s vocals were hard as he too took a step forward.

Anakin’s eyes flashed to him over Padme’s head. Obi-Wan felt it before he even saw Anakin’s arm raise over Padme’s shoulder, an overbearing thrum deep down to his core and then the pinching of his trachea. His feet were off the ground.

“Anakin, stop!” Padme screamed.

Obi-Wan’s vision was bleary, but he could still see the terror on her face. Obi-Wan was unarmed—with any weapon at least. The Force that Anakin was using was impossibly strong, and not just because Obi-Wan may have been rusty. He kicked a little, gagging for air. Padme was still screaming at Anakin, but Obi-Wan wasn’t about to wait and hope she could stop him. And even as Obi-Wan gasped for air, he knew his apprentice well. He was not paying attention.

He splayed the fingers of own shaking hand and called upon the Force. From within the lobby of the apartment, he levitated a small vase from one of the tables and flung it at Anakin’s head. The clay object (which was probably priceless) shattered into a million pieces that sprayed around Anakin’s head. It was more than enough to break his concentration, and Obi-Wan dropped. But not on the balcony. He barely grabbed hold of the railing, his body hanging over the expanse of the city below.

While Anakin was shaking the shards of pottery from his hair, Obi-Wan was pulling himself back over the side of the balcony. Though Obi-Wan was managing quite well, in spite of the heart-stopping drop, Padme was there taking his arm and pulling him to safety. As soon as he was back on solid ground, he breathed out, his cheeks puffing.

“Are you alright?” Padme whispered, shaking all over.

"Humiliated, but not harmed…” his voice came out coarser than he wished, the simple act of speaking painful thanks to the bruise in his throat.

He had to gently pull her hand from his face, her show of affection was unintentionally cruel to Anakin. But when Obi-Wan looked to his former apprentice, Anakin was not even looking at them, his hand was on his head, his usually tall posture nearly doubled over. He seemed to struggle to breathe, as if his very skull was ready to split open. Obi-Wan knew it wasn’t from the vase—Anakin’s head was much too hard and had been struck with much larger objects.

His pain was deeper than that. The rage that had made him attack was spiraling into confusion. Obi-Wan could feel the conflict of emotions that were churning so violently in him, conflict that Anakin was struggling to balance.

“I’m sorry…” Anakin breathed hoarsely. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s happening to me…”

Obi-Wan gently peeled himself from Padme’s possessive grip to approach his old friend. Even as he still practiced control of his own emotions, his heart ached to see Anakin in so much pain. Pain that he was in no small part responsible for.

“I can help you… if you’ll let me…”

Anakin finally looked at him, his hand lowering from its shield on his head. “You already left me behind. I don’t need you anymore…” The terrified rattle in his voice did not match the words.

“No…” Obi-Wan said quietly. “But perhaps I’m the one who needed you. We were a good team, weren’t we?”

“We were…” Anakin said flatly, his gaze flickering to Padme for a moment before locking onto Obi-Wan. “We were a good team while the illusion lasted. Before I learned about all the _lies_ , from you and the Jedi. All I had left was the Chancellor, he is the only one who has ever been honest with me and never held me back. He never abandoned me. Everything he’s ever told me about you has been true.” Slowly, his spine was straightening and he forced his chin up, as if it took all of his strength, his cheeks wet but his eyes hard set. “I’ve done just fine without you, Master. I’ve gotten more powerful _without_ your help. I’ve won battle after battle without you. I killed Count Dooku without you. _I don’t need you._ ”

Those last four words cut deeper than Obi-Wan was prepared for and he could not help the almost imperceptible wince at the literal pain that it caused. It hurt. It was perhaps more true than he wanted to admit to himself, but Anakin was struggling and Obi-Wan could not turn a blind eye to the boy that he had raised—the boy that he had essentially grown up with. An Obi-Wan never liked Palpatine, especially when Anakin sung his praises.

The boy had always been at the mercy of the demons in his head, a battle that he could only fight on his own. The best that Obi-Wan had been able to do was equip him with the means to fight them. He feared it was not enough.

“I am proud of what you’ve accomplished, Anakin… I’ve followed your career closely… But I can feel there is something more. Did something happen when you fought Count Dooku?” This was a hunch, based entirely on the wave of dread when Anakin had spoken the fallen Jedi’s name, something whispering in the Force.

Anakin’s breathing steadied a bit, his mouth tight as he stared at his former master. But that mask of defiance cracked a little, fear showing through. “He was unarmed…”

It was against the Jedi code to kill an unarmed opponent, and he could feel the guilt weighing down on Anakin… Somehow that guilt did not seem to be attached to the act of killing.

Then Anakin smiled, almost painfully and looked to the shattered pieces of clay at his feet. “He was unarmed… _literally_ …”

A cold weight dropped into Obi-Wan’s stomach. Anakin was glad. Of course, he had destroyed a Sith and the most dangerous leader of the opposition. Count Dooku’s death was not a tragedy. Anakin’s part in it was, and he could practically smell that old familiar scent of charred clothes, flesh, marrow and bone from the dissevering of a lightsaber. Obi-Wan himself had cut off enough limbs to know it well.

Anakin’s smile, however, was not familiar.

“I know I shouldn’t have killed him when he no longer had a weapon…” Anakin said quietly. “I could have arrested him, we could have gotten more information out of him about the Separatists… That would have been the _Jedi_ way…”

There was more that Anakin wasn’t saying, it was evident in the way his flesh hand was shaking. At that moment, his commlink chirped at his belt and Anakin blinked almost confusedly as it seemed to bring him back to reality.

“And what about now?” Obi-Wan was direct. It was Anakin’s choice now. “Will you follow the Jedi way and arrest me?”

“Anakin—” Padme was ready to protest, but Obi-Wan looked to her, gently shaking his head.

“Anakin, please…” Padme said quietly. “I don’t believe for a moment that you’ve come to hurt Obi-Wan…”

Anakin took the commlink from his belt and held it to his mouth.

“Corporal…”

“ _Sir, have you found the traitor?_ ”

Anakin’s eyes flickered between Obi-Wan and Padme, finally settling on her. The way he looked at her, the longing in his eyes looked fatal to him.

“ _General Skywalker?_ ”

Anakin’s chest rose with a deep breath. “No… He’s not here…” He looked right at Obi-Wan as he said it. “I-I’ll be out in a moment… I’m just making my apologies to Senator Amidala….”

“ _Yes, sir._ ”

He put the commlink back on his belt. Now he was calm again. The violent cycle in his mind had been broken by that interruption, but there was still something searing beneath the surface.

“You need to leave here.” Anakin said shortly, staring into Obi-Wan. “Leave Coruscant. Now.”

Padme was holding Obi-Wan’s arm so tightly it seemed she could break it. Anakin was right, though. To stay would only endanger her further.

“I won’t lie for you a second time, Master…” The words were threatening, but the anger had all but faded from Anakin’s face. His eyes were pleading, begging Obi-Wan.

“I will go…” Obi-Wan said softly, reassuringly.

Anakin was stepping backward, slipping out of the sunlight of the balcony and back into the shadows of the apartment, his voice low. “I’ll know if you’re still here… Don’t try to play me for a fool.”

“You have my word.” Obi-Wan hoped that still meant something. “Goodbye, my friend. May the Force be with you.”

Anakin turned and stalked away, disappearing out the door to where his guards waited for him.

C-3PO finally arrived, his arms slightly akimbo, his staring round eyes looking from where Anakin departed, to the pieces of clay on the ground. “Oh my... I suppose I shall have to clean this up…. Have I missed something?”


	22. Chapter 22

C-3PO was carrying a pan of the vase’s broken shards, shuffling contentedly across the lobby to dispose of the pieces, completely unaware of the drama that had unfolded as he chattered quietly to himself about how happy he always is to see the The Maker.

Padme had sunk into one of the curved couches, staring listlessly at the small table in front of her, her back towards the small balcony where Obi-Wan still lingered, silent. Both of them were too deep in thought to speak immediately about what had happened.

She couldn’t believe what she witnessed. She wanted to hold onto the denial that Anakin would ever harm his own master. The anger Anakin felt, though frightening, was only natural when considering how much pain he was in. Obi-Wan did not seem surprised by the attack, or perhaps he thought it was deserved. She didn’t know which was worse.  
And now he was going to leave her again. Her first instinct was to just go with him, wherever it was he was going. Forget about the Senate, the Delegation, or the war. What would happen would happen, was there any difference that she could make?

The real question, the one that kept her anchored to reality, was: Could she live with herself if she didn’t try?

His arms came from behind her, wrapping around her shoulders, his beard tickling at her neck where he buried his face.

“You could come with me….” He said quietly, almost desperately. She was not sure she had ever heard him make such a request, something that bordered on a selfish need.

He knew as well as she did that he couldn’t stay on Coruscant. They fooled themselves for a little while, living in the delusion of domesticity.

But it wasn’t until he asked that she knew she couldn’t go either.

“I can’t…” she could hardly get the words out, her hand reaching up to rake into his auburn hair. “I need to be at the Senate now, more than ever… The war will be over any day now… Only then can we actually be together.”

He was quiet for a moment, a light exhale escaping him against her neck. “I know.”

And he still asked. Against his selfless nature. Feeling his arms around her now, and thinking about him walking out the door again, suddenly filled her with panic.

“Obi-Wan…” she turned in his embrace, getting onto her knees on the couch so that she could face him where he stood behind it, her fingers in his collar. “You can go to the Lake House. You can wait for me there, where I know I can find you. No one knows about it and I know you’ll be safe.”

He looked at her dubiously. “Anakin knows.”

“Even if he knew you were there, he wouldn’t do anything…” she was confident. “He doesn’t want to hurt you, I know he doesn’t.”

He rubbed at his throat. “Somehow I doubt that.”

It surprised her that Obi-Wan seemed to lose all faith in his own apprentice. “He lied to the clones so that you could leave unharmed… He’s a good person, Obi-Wan… You should know that better than anyone.”

The sardonic expression that was on his face faded into something more grim. “I know him better than he perhaps knows himself. Anakin and I spent every hour of every day together for the first decade of his Jedi training. We were never apart more than a couple of days, when I would have to go on missions that he was too young for, or… when I was with you. There has always been a fury in him that I have tried to teach him to tame. Regardless of my teachings, he is still far too arrogant, ambitious, and vindictive.”

She stared as each word came out of his mouth. Everything he was saying about his former apprentice almost sounded… unkind, though she knew it was a cold truth. Then

Obi-Wan’s frown smoothed away and he sighed.

“He is also fearless, devoted, and was once my dearest friend… No Jedi has ever had a greater heart than Anakin, and… I fear that we broke it. Of course, if there were no pieces of it left, then he would have me in shackles at this moment. You may be right that he won’t pursue me to Naboo.”

She could hear the doubt in his voice, but she could not lose hope in Anakin. “Then will you wait for me there?”

He smiled. “No matter where or for how long, I will wait for you, Padme.”

Relief washed over her. That was all she needed to hear, that he would go to that safe place, where she knew he would be. If there was any small comfort to be had in separation.

“One more thing…” she kneaded at his collar.

“Anything.”

“Don’t leave yet. Stay with me awhile longer, as if we still have all the time in the universe…”

He took her face gently in both hands, lips meeting softly. They kissed tenderly, the back of the couch between them. The taste of him only reminded her of what it was like to be without him. They could be apart for any length of time, and in their history together, it was always longer than she expected.

Without breaking the kiss, she rose up, sitting on the back of the couch and swinging her legs over to his side. Her skirt was loose enough for her to pull him between her legs, and he merged with her, kissing her more deeply as she made her hunger known in a wanting hum.

She could feel him against her, the same excitement growing in him and less easy to hide. She was aching to have him. He began to pull away, breathing heavily, inching in the direction of the bedroom, but she wrapped her fists firmly into his collar.

“No... _here_ …” she whined. To make her point, she gathered up her skirts over her thighs, her smooth bare legs wrapping around him at the waist.

One of the things she loved most about him was his gentlemanly ways, but right now, she wanted him to take her in the same space that she had conducted senatorial meetings, and secret conspiratorial gatherings. Besides, she knew now better than she had in the past that Obi-Wan Kenobi was not completely opposed to occasional rule-breaking or recklessness.

He didn’t argue—he was usually wise enough not to—and he pressed against her, the bulge in his trousers a little rough against her unprotected flesh, but exciting. She reached between her legs to get to him, her fingers deftly working his buckle. Her hands delved, found his manhood and she gripped it with one full hand.

A startled groan rose out of him, one that was not altogether unappreciative and he pulsed in her grip as she stroked him. He was already breathless, and she could feel the need in him. His lips fell to her neck, his beard tickling where he kissed, his breath released in hot gusts, and she tilted her head to welcome all of it. He didn’t resist anything.

He supported her with both hands under her rear, to keep her from toppling backwards, and she felt secure in his grip. Her hand worked him until he was firm and throbbing, until every exhale was tinged with hums, and she guided him to her. Slowly his hips rolled, he pushed inside with a soft groan, and she gasped, always surprised and overcome.

She arched her back, moving in the supporting grip of his hands for her hips to meet his, finding his rhythm and matching it. The heat swallowed her, the friction coursing through her and she did not hold back the moan at his ear. Her hands were on his back know, knotting the fabric of his jacket and shirt, pulling them enough to expose the flesh of his shoulder and she was hungry for it. Her teeth were on skin, scraping and swallowing down the salty sweat, the addictive taste of him.

It was impossible for him to be gentle in this position, still clothed and upright, and she loved it. It felt feral, and, stars forbid, _uncivilized_. If she was to have him for this moment, she wanted him untamed and unrestrained and she sucked hard at the exposed flesh of his shoulder, urging him not to hold back.

Not a word was needed.

His hips undulated faster, harder, and he lifted her just so that the angle made her cry out, dizzy with the pleasure of it. The heat was overcoming her, spreading outward from where he pounded into her, constricting her lungs and dampening her skin. Through the noise of her own mind and body, she relished in the sounds of him heaving for breath, choking out an occasional moan as he pushed that much closer to the edge, his nearness evident in how frenetic the thrusting became and she wanted to feel him get there, to reach it with him.

Every breath was shorter than the last, she was gasping for air between her cries, and all at once everything shattered inside and her head rolled back as she screamed to the ceiling, convulsing in his arms, galvanized by the fire that spread through her.

He wasn’t far behind. A violent tremor ran through him when he came, his breath seizing for a moment before releasing a long, low, guttural groan that reverberated through them both. He held her tight against him as the waves coursed through him, the rattling pleasure of release. She rolled her hips slowly, grinding out every last bit of it from him.

As the quivers faded, he was gasping for air, sinking against her as his legs seemed in danger of giving out under him. When he finally caught his breath, he managed to form words and even a lopsided smile.

“If that was supposed to help convince me to go… I’m afraid… it did… _quite_ the opposite…”

They laughed together, still floating on the ecstasy they shared, both still panting and weak.

“Oh Padme…” his voice was low at her ear, and she melted at the sound. “When we’re apart again and I think of us, like this, I will think it’s another dream…”

Another? She suddenly remembered her own dreams from all those years ago, when she was married to Anakin, the dreams that had no meaning, but they felt like this. She always felt that it was really him, not her imagination.

She leaned away with astonishment, enough to see his face. “You had those dreams too?”

His bottom lip stuck out and he blew a strand of sweat-damp hair from his eye. “Me? Well, I think it’s very possible that they were _your_ dreams and I just happened to be in them. Besides… Jedi don’t have naughty dreams….”

She was grinning at him now, her eyes squinting with pretend accusation. “No one said anything about naughty dreams…”

His grin matched hers and the sight of it sent heat coursing through her all over again. Before he could give some witty retort, she silenced him with another kiss. She was drunk on him at the moment, and she was terrified of feeling sober. She wanted to prolong yet another goodbye.


	23. Chapter 23

The separation was never as painful for her as it was now. Obi-Wan made good on his promise to call her on their coded, private channel when he reached the lake house on Naboo. Padme had sent ahead orders to the property’s caretaker, Paddy Accu, and the rest of the staff to help him feel at home. It was hard not to feel like she was keeping her lover in a gilded cage. This was not forever, but it was difficult to see beyond the next day, let alone the next hour.

Anakin said that they had found Grievous. Who found him and how, she had no way of knowing. A Senator was not privy to that kind of information.  
So she carried on with her political tasks, studying bills, and writing her own proposals, all the while dancing around the suspicion and accusations that inevitably came her way in the wake of her presentation of the ex-General Kenobi’s data disk. Days passed, and she had not seen Bail or the other members of the Delegation in person in all that time. She was staying away, for everyone’s sake.

If anything helped her keep her sanity, it was being able to see Obi-Wan’s hologram once in awhile. It couldn’t amount to the real thing, but it was some small relief to see him, to receive that reassuring smile from him. It was the late evening when she called him. The sun was setting over Coruscant, bathing the glittering skyline in a fiery hue, casting long dark shadows. She stood on the veranda where it was peaceful, where she was reminded of him, a warm cape over her shoulders to ward off the evening chill, the holocom disk on the floor and standing over it the life-sized ghost of Obi-Wan.

“It’s like the whole galaxy is holding its breath…” she said softly, trying not to reveal her own anxiety. “I just keep waiting for the news that Grievous is dead…”

“ _I don’t suppose you know who they sent after Grievous?_ ” Obi-Wan asked, knowing the answer already.

She shook her head. “The Jedi never share that information… Too sensitive, I suppose…”

He nodded pensively, and in the lined image of him, she could still see the crease of his brow.

“I miss you,” she couldn’t keep it to herself any longer.

The frown smoothed away and he was pulled from his deep thoughts, and his eyes met hers across the galaxy. “ _I miss you too, Padme… Don’t worry about me. I’m passing the time well. Another two days and I might be able to win back my credits from Accu at sabacc… Or else I can start betting the clothes off my back…_ ”

That finally brought a small smile to her face. Even though he was no longer a Jedi, he still had almost no personal objects to call his own. She had learned that the Jedi seemed to have a prejudice against ownership of anything, especially material objects.

“Don’t lose all of your clothes… I still have your old robes here and I don’t know how soon I can get them to you.”

“ _Is that what happened to them?_ ” he said absently, as if he didn’t have a care in the world if he misplaces them. “ _I suppose it would be rather undignified to lounge around here in the nude._ ”

He was trying to make her laugh, and the twinkle in his eyes comforted her. She tried to be light about it, but she could not help lingering on the fact that she honestly didn’t know when she would see him again.

 _“Padme…._ ” He said softly. “ _Not to worry, we shall see each other again. Soon. I can feel it._ ”

It was difficult to know if he was just saying that for her benefit or if he meant it. But how could she argue with that comforting smile? She pulled her cape closer around her neck and nodded, even if she was not as sure as he pretended to be.

“I hope so… I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” The strain was very real if it was enough for her to finally say it aloud, and she could see the pain in his eyes to hear it.

“Senator!” C-3PO was shuffling in from her room. “Master Anakin is here!”

Her blood ran cold, and Obi-Wan’s face went blank.

“I will call you later, Obi-Wan…”

He nodded his understanding. “ _I’ll be waiting… I love you..._ ”

Those words were enough to spark warmth back into her. “I love you, too…”

His image flickered away and she felt suddenly alone. Plucking the holocom from the floor, she slipped it into the hidden pocket of her skirt and walked briskly past Threepio, through her room and into the lobby.

Anakin wasn’t alone. There were no Clones flanking him this time, but rolling idly a few steps behind him as he paced along the room was R2-D2. Anakin was looking with disinterest at the various collectible artifacts that decorated the place, pausing with his back towards her as he stared at the empty table where a vase once sat. The very one that Obi-Wan had smashed his head with. His wide shoulders rose and fell heavily in a huff.

She couldn’t even begin to guess why he was here, but she was hopeful that perhaps he had news of what was happening in the galaxy. After all, there was no one else who was in with the Jedi and the Chancellor simultaneously. Padme donned her best politician mask and walked into the room. Artoo’s domed top swiveled towards her while he let out a cheerful whistle, and Anakin turned to face her.

“Hello Anakin…” she said calmly. “What brings you here?”

“I wanted to see you… I’ve got good news.”

Her heart was beating rapidly. He didn’t say anything, he just looked at her, his gaze drinking in the sight of her from head to foot. She never liked it when he looked at her like that.

“What news?” she finally asked slowly, when he failed to elaborate.

“General Grievous is dead.” He said it so casually.

She let out her breath and resisted the temptation to thank the stars. She knew she should thank whatever Clone troopers or Jedi were responsible. “The war can end then...”

The edge of his mouth tugged into something of a smile. “Yes.”

“What’s going to happen now? Are steps being taken for peace?”

“There is more to do…” he said languidly. “But now that Grievous is gone and the Separatist Council is… _dissolved_ … We’ll be able to finally bring order to the galaxy. I’m on my way to the Jedi Temple now.”

“The Jedi Council doesn’t know yet?” It seemed so strange.

“The _Chancellor_ decides when they receive the report,” he said it as though it was obvious. “It was his Clone Intelligence that found Grievous in the first place, not the Jedi.”

“I thought the clones were under the jurisdiction of the Jedi?”

“Not anymore.” His voice was hard. “Padme, when I get to the temple, things are going to change quickly…” He was stepping nearer.

“What do you mean?”

Though he smiled reassuringly, there was something so... askew. “Everything’s going to be okay. You’ll see…” His gaze dipped to her hand and he hesitantly reached for it.

She didn’t pull her hand free when he took it in his own warm, flesh hand.

“You’re cold…” he closed his gloved hand over it and she could feel the electric joints beneath the leather. She remembered that feeling well, his durasteel hand never bothered her. Until now.

“Anakin… What are you not telling me?”

He continued to study her hand, his breath trembling a little and he frowned. “Just promise me that whatever happens, you’ll stay here… Stay inside... Grievous is dead and the war is going to end tonight… Everything will be set right…”

The way he was holding her hand didn’t seem to her to be romantic in nature. It wasn’t unlike the way a child would hold on, terrified of getting lost. His words baffled her and frightened her to the point that she couldn’t conjure what to say. He lifted her hand, and she thought he was about to kiss it. But he let go and turned sharply on his heel.  
R2-D2 began to follow, but a clipped order from Anakin stopped him in his tracks.

“Stay with Padme, Artoo. Don’t leave her side.”

Artoo trilled and chirped what sounded like confused compliance. 

Anakin marched out of the room, his cloak billowing behind him.

The air was left with an electric chill when he was gone and Padme found herself staring at the door. The last rays of sunlight were sinking behind the horizon and night was falling fast over the city, the lights of her apartment turned up a little brighter.

He told her to stay. That was the last thing she wanted to do. Still in her cape, she ran for the door and bolted out. Or at least, she would have, if two armored arms didn’t block her path.

“ _Halt!_ ”

She was only stunned for a moment when she realized there were two Clone Troopers on each side of her door. “Let me pass!”

“ _Sorry, Senator. We were ordered to keep you here for your own safety._ ”

“Safety from what?” she breathed.

“ _Just stay inside, my lady. We’ll alert you when it is safe to leave._ ”

The two guards kept their arms across the doorway, their blasters in their other hands. Slowly she stepped back into her quarters and closed the door. Panic was beginning to take hold of her now. Something terrible was going to happen, and she had no way of knowing what.

C-3PO emerged from the room now, his short strides taking him to the astromech’s side where he leaned inquisitively over him. “Master Anakin seems to be under quite a lot of stress… Do you know what is going on?”

Artoo chirped and beeped with a few low boops.

C-3PO straightened his back. “What do you mean, you don’t know what’s going on? Aren’t you with him at every moment?”

There was a flurry of short squawks and boops from Artoo that sounded decidedly frustrated.

Padme moved nearer, kneeling in front of the agitated little droid. “Artoo, do you know anything at all? Threepio?” she looked up at the protocol droid desperately, waiting for a translation.

R2-D2 went into a long, complex string of sounds, occasionally wobbling on his legs.

“He says that he is not authorized to disclose certain details of their missions…” Threepio said simply. “He also says that he does not know what is happening. Master Anakin had left him with the ship when he carried out his mission. Master Anakin has also stopped talking to him, which he says is very unusual.”

The end of the explanation ended with low, sad _wooo_ , and Artoo’s cylindrical body tipped forward. Obi-Wan may have had zero interest in the opinions of droids, but Padme found it invaluable at the moment. R2-D2 had proven impossible loyalty to his masters over the years. When he belonged to Padme, and now more than ever with Anakin. He was unique among astromech droids thanks to the upgrades that Anakin had given him, and the two seemed to have been inseparable. Until now, when Anakin abandoned him in Padme’s apartment.

“Something’s wrong…” she said, her throat tight. “Anakin might be putting himself in danger. I need to do something…”

Even as she said it, she knew how futile it was. She sat on the floor with Artoo, C-3PO standing over her, and she buried her face in her hands as she tried to gather her wits. After a few minutes, she sniffed, swiped the tears from her cheeks, and got back onto her feet. She pulled the holocom from her pocket and used the coded channel to call Obi-Wan. It crackled, but the transmission couldn’t get out. It made no difference, but she hit the disk with the heel of her hand.

“Something’s blocking the signal…” she could barely get the words out as she tried to keep calm. The disk was put back into her pocket and she kneeled in front of R2-D2 again. “Can you help me send a message to Obi-Wan?”

Artoo beeped again. 

“He says… His communications were disabled prior to coming here by… Master Anakin…”

Did Anakin do that, knowing she would want to call Obi-Wan? Or call anyone? If this was his idea of protecting her, he had another thing coming. She was feeling less defeated and more defiant every second.

“Threepio… I want you to go out the front door past those guards to get my speeder. Bring it to my personal landing platform… Tell them I am sending you out to deliver a message to Senator Hault-Botaff on a bill we have been working on. Here…” she hurried to her room and returned with a disk that genuinely had the aforementioned bill on it.

“It’s imperative that the senator gets this, since I am apparently having technical difficulties…”

C-3PO took the disk in his metal fingers. “Yes, my lady! You can rely on me!”

He was very good at lying, she had made him do it countless times. He shuffled to the door, and she saw him stopped by the same armored arms.

“ _Halt!_ ”

“Oh my!” Threepio leaned back from the arms, his hand shooting up to show the disk. “Senator Amidala has asked that I deliver this message to Senator—”

“ _No one leaves. Not even droids._ ”

“I beg your pardon!”

“ _Get back inside, droid._ ”

“Yes, but, you see, this is very important—”

“ _Get. Inside. Move it!_ ”

She could just see a gloved hand push at C-3PO’s chest plate, nudging him back inside.

“Oh, well, that is I… Oh…” The doors closed again in Threepio’s expressionless face. He turned and looked to her. “I am sorry, my lady… I’m afraid I am not equipped to fight my way past them.”

R2-D2 rolled across the room, speaking his binary at the protocol droid.

“How dare you! You might wish to watch your language around the Senator, you rusty can!”

Artoo squelched back at him. 

Padme was losing her battle against the fear that was taking over her. She was beginning to feel truly trapped. She sank onto the couch, facing the wall and holding the holocom tightly between her hands. All she could do was wait…


	24. Chapter 24

It was winter on Naboo, everything brisk and cold, clouds congesting the once blue skies. Frost was gathering along the edges of the lake, the trees had gone bare, and the approach of snow could be felt on the air.

The staff at the lake house on Naboo was nothing but attentive and friendly. Obi-Wan strongly disliked the idea of being waited upon, but he hated to be rude to the people who lived there. They rarely had guests and seemed absolutely thrilled with the idea of having one. He spent quite a bit of time in conversation with each of them, getting to know them by name. They weren’t even concerned with the fact that he was here hiding as a fugitive. They were used to secrets and he had reason to believe that they enjoyed his company as well.

There was only so much that he could do to follow what was happening in the rest of the galaxy. Coruscant was the focal point of everything that was happening—where Padme was—and he had to subdue the inclination to be anxious or angry about leaving her there. It was her wish to have him here and safe, where he would not be an unnecessary distraction on her work. He trusted her and knew that she did what she did best there as the politician. There was nothing for him there at the moment, and he was wrapping himself in his patience until it began to feel like it was smothering him.

Finally he got to speak with her on the hologram. Seeing her face, even in its worry, was soothing. Any comfort he was able to have was immediately chased away when he heard C-3PO’s voice from out of the range of the scanning lasers of the hologram.

“ _Senator! Master Anakin is here!_ ”

He couldn’t tell what that meant. He didn’t want to think Anakin’s reasons for being there were anything more than being a friend. Padme wisely ended the transmission, promising to call him back. He had no expectation of when. But as the hours went by, something felt wrong.

And with each hour that passed, Obi-Wan could not stop himself from doing what he had not done since he was a padawan: He was pacing.

Then he heard it.

It was distant at first, but getting so loud, so quickly he knew it was coming directly towards his location and it was a sound as familiar to him as the thrum of a lightsaber. It was the droning roar of an LAAT—a Clone Gunship. When he looked out the window, there were three of them flying over the calm waters of the Varykino Lake, the water spraying in white mist behind them.

“Master Kenobi!” The caretaker, Paddy Accu, came in breathlessly, his white hair plastered to his sweaty forehead. “There are—”

“Clones,” he finished for him, grimly.

At first, the logical conclusion was that they had come to arrest him at last. But that conclusion was dashed when he saw the puff of smoke that trailed behind multiple missiles fired from the top of the LAATs.

There was no time to run, so Obi-Wan did the only thing that he could in those seconds. He raised his hand, willing the Force through his body to shield him and the old caretaker from the brunt of the explosion and the mountain of stone that dropped on them as the tower of the lake house collapsed.

The missiles didn’t stop. They fired until the opulent, historic home of the Naberrie family was reduced to a pile of rubble, the debris cloud trickling into the lake and muddying the waters.

* * *

Her hands were raw from wringing, her nerves frayed to the last after hours of trying to call Obi-Wan, or even Bail. She could not get past the Clones at her door, and she had no way of knowing what was happening out there.

Maybe nothing was happening and she was afraid for no reason. Anakin said the war was going to end tonight, that was supposed to be a good thing.

_Promise me that whatever happens, you’ll stay here._

No one says that when nothing happens.

Then she felt it—like a blow to the head—and she nearly buckled onto the floor as the air was forced from her lungs. She was afraid, she felt devastated, and had no idea why.

“Obi-Wan…” all she could conjure was his name, tears falling.

She had seen her own country invaded, bombed, attacked, her people corralled and killed. But never had she felt so helpless or lost. It was all a bad feeling—so bad that it made her sick.

Her fears came true when she happened to look out the window. Smoke. Plumes of it and they were rising from the Jedi Temple. She ran to her balcony and stared in numb silence.

The temple, which had always been a symbol of stability and peace, was burning.

More fretful hours passed, and finally there was a ship approaching her apartment. It must have been Anakin... He was alive! It passed the lobby balcony, but it was coming in for a landing, as it had in the past when they were married, towards the personal landing platform of her veranda. She ran to meet him, arriving just in time as he stepped out of his fighter.

“What’s happening?” She had to cling onto his arms, her legs shaking so badly she could hardly stand. “I can see the smoke from here! Are you alright?”

He was calm and he stopped with one foot still on the wing of his ship. “I’m fine…” He supported her by the elbows. 

“Why did you block my communications? Anakin, please tell me what’s going on!” She was close to screaming now.

“The Jedi have tried to overthrow the Republic.”

The gravity in his voice, the flames at the temple. It meant death, but it didn’t make sense. He was so calm.

“I can’t believe that…” she was dumbfounded.

“I saw Master Windu attempt to assassinate the Chancellor myself,” his voice took on a sharper edge.

The Jedi, all enemies of the Republic? It was unfathomable. Anakin’s loyalty had always been torn between the Order and Palpatine. Was he right about the Jedi? Was Obi-Wan right to resign?

At that moment, R2-D2 came rolling out onto the platform as well. He whistled a cheerful greeting to his master. Anakin looked to the little droid and slipped out of her grip to approach Artoo. He lowered onto one knee, his cloak fanned out behind him. He hunched forward, opening the front of the droid and tinkering quietly. He removed a small component and crushed it in his robotic hand.

“Your communications aren’t jammed anymore…”

“Artoo had the jamming signal?” she frowned.

Artoo let out a high _fweeep_ of surprise.

“How could you not know you had that sort of modification?” Threepio spoke as he stepped out onto the platform.

“Anakin…” Padme took cautious steps towards him. “What are you going to do now?”

“I’ve already done it.” He rose to his full height before tossing the crushed object over the edge. He then approached her. “There are no more enemies of the Republic left. No Grievous… No Separatist leaders… No Jedi…”

“What about Obi-Wan? He’s not a Jedi anymore. Is he safe? Please tell me if you know…”

He inhaled slowly, his mouth tight. “Jedi or not, he’s still a traitor to the Republic.”

Her heart was reaching, clawing for Obi-Wan, tearing itself to pieces with regret that she had sent him away, but infinitely glad that she had, or he could be dead already. All she could do now was form one logical question next as she continued to search his strange eyes.

“Anakin… Am I safe? I was already under suspicion…”

Would she even be able to leave the planet?

He was inching closer to her now, a small smile on his face that told her nothing. “Of course you’re safe… I would never let anything happen to you…”

“But… if the Chancellor considers me an enemy… The petition that we signed against him…” In spite of herself, she was afraid. She could already imagine the Clone Troopers marching in and arresting her.

“You’re safe because _I_ want you to be. That’s all. The Chancellor understands and made it so. There are no more Jedi between us and I’m no longer a Jedi myself… I need you to know, Padme, that everything I do, everything I’ve done… It’s all been for you…”

 _What did you do?_ The question screamed in her head, but as she met his gaze, she could not speak. He drew in close, only a breath away, and she felt his hand on the back of her neck, warm and firm, but not gripping. Only lightly stroking the sensitive skin. She shuddered, but could not act on her need to pull away. His eyes were dragging her in.

He leaned in, his lips close to hers. She couldn’t pull away, what held her in place was cold and familiar and it was wrapping around her mind, telling her that she wanted that kiss.

“Anakin…” she whimpered.

He pulled away, withdrawing his hand suddenly, and she was free again. His eyes were closed as if in pain. “No… I’m not going to do that to you again, Padme… I never wanted to… I want you to want me… And you will….”

No matter how quickly she pulled in air, she couldn’t get her lungs to hold it. “You have to stop this, Anakin…” She moved away from him, her hand out defensively, though she knew with an icy terror that she was no match for a Jedi. Yet, in spite of how afraid she was, she was more afraid for him. This wasn’t the Anakin she knew, something was terribly wrong. “Whatever you’ve done, or plan to do, it won’t change my mind. I love Obi-Wan.” To say it so plainly made her voice steady with certainty. “And I am so sorry… I’m sorry that I hurt you…”

His eyes were still closed. “I do not fear pain… I use it…”

It was spoken eerily like a mantra. Before she could begin to question what that meant, his eyes were on her again, steady and dark.

“You say you love him, but he’ll never return it. He isn’t capable. He’ll disappoint you as much as he disappointed me… Then you’ll see. _You’ll choose me._ And I’ll wait. I’ll prove to you that I can wait. The future is _ours_ …”

In a few quick strides, he was slipping back into his ship. The canopy closed and he took off, leaving her stunned and shaking on the landing pad with C-3PO and R2-D2. The little astromech let out a sad, low whistle as he watched his master leave without him.

Padme’s heart was pounding so fast in her chest she was dizzy. There was only one thing on her mind. She sprinted into her apartment and put in the private channel for Obi-Wan.


	25. Chapter 25

The holodisk beeped in the rubble somewhere beneath the fragments of polished granite and marble. He was vaguely aware of the thumping behind his skull, the dust and powder layered onto his skin and in his beard, in his nose and mouth. He had prevented the fire and the initial impact of the detonating missiles from blowing him and Paddy Accu to pieces, but the entire weight of the building was just a little too much all at once. He was not strong enough to hold it forever in the bombardment of missiles and they were buried.

He could hear boots scraping clumsily on the uneven terrain of the ruins, the occasional muffled voice of a clone speaking through his helmet. The icy winter air was whistling in through the pinhole gaps of the rubble, ghosting over Obi-Wan’s face and reviving him. He couldn’t open one eye, something caked it closed. His head was bleeding and he couldn’t move. What he could see was the occasional flicker of a flashlight from clone trooper armor. The sun had set and they were searching in the dark. At least he wasn’t completely blind, even if he was pinned. This wasn’t what he imagined in a lake house getaway.

Whatever panic trickled up his spine at the prospect of being trapped here, he chased away with slow, shallow breaths. He calmed his mind so that his body would follow, and he listened to the movements of the soldiers. They wandered right on top of him for far too long. But it was just one. Apparently the soldiers were spread out far over the likely broad expanse of the house that they had laid to waste.

Clone troopers were rarely this destructive for a mere arrest. He would have to wonder about that later.

“ _I thought I heard something…_ ” That familiar clone accent spoke through a helmet right on top of him.

The holodisk was beeping again. Obi-Wan couldn’t move even a finger to answer it or silence it. Using the Force, he switched it off.

“ _I’m picking up a faint life form reading! Might be another housekeeper… I’ll investigate…_ ”

Chunks of granite were being moved, though it hardly felt any lighter on top of Obi-Wan. He waited, the blinding light of a helmet-mounted light beaming right into his one good eye.

The clone saw him. Paused only a moment and waved a hand to beckon his brothers. “ _I found—_ "

“You found an animal, that’s all… Moving on…”

“ _…Oh, it’s just an animal… Never mind… Moving on..._ ”

Obi-Wan wriggled where he was buried and found that he couldn’t so much as budge a pebble. “Ah… On second thought… This animal could use a hand…”

“ _I’ll just give it a hand first…_ ”

The clone then continued to dig away the rubble until Obi-Wan’s upper half was finally free. The other soldiers were still too far away to notice, and far too busy examining the rocks under their own feet. Obi-Wan waved a hand at the clone trooper who knelt confusedly beside him.

“You’ll move on to search…. Over there…”

“ _Moving my search… over there…_ ”

“ _Melee, stop telling us every little thing you’re doing!_ ” another clone shouted from the other side of a rubble mound. “ _Just find the Jedi! Commander Cody wants a body!_ ”

Cody? Obi-Wan’s confusion was manifold, but there was no doubt about one thing. He was as good as dead if he didn’t get out of here. The clone called Melee was wandering away continuing his search, and Obi-Wan was slowly pulling the lower half of his body from the rubble. As a chunk of agate rolled aside, there was a bleeding and bruised hand among the rubble. Cold as the winter air. It was Paddy Accu. The man who had devoted his life to taking care of this Lake Retreat, had ultimately died under it.

Obi-Wan spared a moment, regardless of the risk to his own life, to touch that cold hand and wish him well in his return to the Force. He did not deserve this. It would not have happened if Obi-Wan had not been here…

No, he could not let the guilt seize him. He moved again, getting to his feet, but keeping his head down. There were fractions of walls still standing, barely enough for him to hide behind to avoid the lights of their armor.

He limped out into the frostbitten, moonless night, to take shelter somewhere in the forest that enveloped the hillside. He climbed the steep hillside for hours, finding a hollow in an old tree where he tucked himself in. Everything hurt, and the air was so cold that he could not feel his fingers. He did not have a coat, but the Force would be enough to keep him from succumbing to the worst of hypothermia.

Commander Cody. His old friend, the man he had fought side by side with, was looking for his corpse. He was intent on finding it.  
Whose orders had it been to execute Obi-Wan? And so destructively?

He did not dare to call Padme. If her life was not already in danger, then by calling her, it surely would be. Instead, he put in a coded channel.

It was the emergency channel memorized by all Jedi. He did not have the right to use it, but he knew the Jedi would not have condoned this attack. The clones were under their jurisdiction... Weren’t they…?

The call went out. No one answered. Obi-Wan closed his only good eye as he waited, trying to clear his mind of the pain in his body. He heard static, and when he opened his eye, something blurry was flickering in a small humanoid shape in his hand.

“ _Can you hear me…?_ ” The voice was clearer than the image.

“Senator Organa?”

“ _Master Kenobi! Is that you?_ ”

“Yes… Although, the ‘master’ bit…”

The image was clearing and Bail’s jaw went slack. “ _Are you alright?_ ”

Obi-Wan wanted to make a joke, say something sarcastic to hide the fact that he was anything but alright. But there was something grim in Bail’s expression, something that told him this was not an isolated event.

“Clones have destroyed Varykino…” Even as he said it, it didn’t make sense. “I’ve barely managed to survive it… They’re still searching for my body. I’m afraid they’ll be quite disappointed…”

“ _Clones have turned on Jedi all over the galaxy… Including you, it seems._ ”

“What?”

“ _We… we don’t know if any survived… We are still looking…_ ” The tremor of Bail’s voice carried through the static. “ _Obi-Wan, can you stay where you are? I can send help as soon as it is safe…_ ”

“No… I am alright… Do not risk yourself or your resources. I have a bump on the head, nothing more… I can think of a place or two to hide… Is Padme safe?”

“ _To my knowledge, she is perfectly well… But I will check on her, nonetheless. What shall I tell her?_ ”

Obi-Wan winced to think of her learning that her family’s lake house was gone, and the people with it. “The truth. But… let her know I’m safe.”

“ _I shall… And whether you like it or not, I am sending help._ ”

“When the time comes I will make sure you can find me…” Obi-Wan could not even plan beyond this hour, let alone tomorrow.

Bail’s projection nodded. “ _May the Force be with you, Obi-Wan…_ ”

“And with you, my friend…Thank you…”

The small projection flickered out, and Obi-Wan was once again in the darkness. Clouds were rolling in, covering the stars, and he was sure he felt a snowflake fall. His thoughts were a whirlwind of questions, but there was one that was answered almost immediately.

Besides Padme, who else had known he was here?

Anakin.

* * *

Every hour that passed in the night, she tried to call Obi-Wan, and there was no answer. The signal wasn’t being blocked this time, it simply wasn’t being answered. It was impossible not to think the worst, but she held onto her faith in him. He was notoriously hard to kill, and she felt it now more than ever, deep down at a place inside her that she did not fully understand.

The next morning, a special senate meeting was called by Supreme Chancellor Palpatine. Some Senators were aware that _something_ had happened overnight. Some had slept through it. And only a handful had seen any of it firsthand. It was then that Padme realized just how quietly that scourge passed through the night, bringing with it a new world when the sun finally rose. 

As the morning hours went by and Padme dressed and gathered her things, she prepared everything to leave Coruscant the moment that the Senate meeting was adjourned. She made sure she included Obi-Wan’s bundle—his Jedi robes—in her cases. And as she packed, news came trickling to her.

Senators were being arrested.

All of them on the petition of the Delegation of Two-Thousand. No one had come for her, and she wondered if it was Anakin’s promise that she was protected, or if it was just a matter of time. Or perhaps her invitation to the Senate meeting was a means to draw her in one last time.

Regardless of the possibility that she was walking into a slaughterhouse, she dressed in her usual senatorial gown, made sure her hair was coiffed perfectly, and walked in with the other senators proudly and prepared for anything. She sat in her pod with Captain Typho, Jar Jar Binks, and her handmaiden, Motee.

When the Chancellor appeared on his podium, the Senate was aghast at what they saw. He was hooded and feeble looking, what they could see of his face no longer resembled a human. It was the color of ash and malformed, his eyes shielded by the darkness of his hood. He was a cloaked shadow with a mouth and chin, little more.

His steely voice cut through the antechamber as he recounted what had happened. That a group of Jedi masters, led by Master Mace Windu himself, arrived at his office under the pretense of arresting him, and immediately attacked him. 

Padme was transfixed, her eyes glassy from not blinking, leaning forward in her seat. She almost didn’t hear Bail Organa’s arrival, as he joined them late into the meeting, but when she turned to him, she felt the first wave of joy at seeing him alive, well and—at the moment—free from incarceration.

“What’s happened…?” he whispered.

“The Chancellor’s been elaborating on a plot by the Jedi to overthrow the Senate…” she explained as matter-of-factly as she could, every word of it so foreign to her. Even as she said it, it wasn’t real.

The Chancellor continued with gusto. “The remaining Jedi will be hunted down and defeated!”

She shuddered, her teeth clamping on her finger as if to stifle the fear so that she could hear every word. Dread was growing, the sickening sensation that a trapdoor into an incinerator was about to open up beneath them. The war was finally over, every droid in the system returned to its docking area or shut down completely. The attack deformed him, and he barely escaped with his life before help came. He did not give his savior a name, but Padme knew it was Anakin.

Where did Anakin stand in the eyes of the Republic? He apparently renounced the Jedi Order, but was he still in danger? Was he now a mere General of the Army? There were so many questions. She only hoped he was as safe as he seemed to believe he was. He acted invincible. But _where_ was he now?

Her mind constantly turned towards Anakin, but her attention was fixed on the raised podium in the middle of the chamber where Palpatine stood with Mas Amedda and Sly Moore. 

Even as he spoke of Jedi treachery and being deformed by the attack on his life, the senate clapped. They hung on his every word, they were electrified with every declaration he made of safeguarding the galaxy.

More and more, she could feel how hollow that trap door was beneath her. More and more, she knew what was coming. 

“In order to ensure the security and continuing stability, the Republic will be reorganized into the _First Galactic Empire_! For a safe and secure society!”

They cheered. The chamber was deafening with the clapping and the praise, and in the middle, Palpatine stood with his arms raised as a savior standing before their congregation. Padme’s pod was deathly silent.

“So, this is how liberty dies... with thunderous applause…” The bitterness of failure momentarily overcame her fear. Or perhaps, it was disgust with the cheering rabble she once called her ‘esteemed colleagues’.

They lost.

Everything was for nothing. The worst thing imaginable, the thing they tried to deny as a possible reality, was now their _only_ reality.

A spy droid came hovering into view, its receptor lens fixed on them. Padme straightened her posture and she clapped, but she would not smile. She looked over her shoulder to Bail, who was as pale as she was. He followed her lead, and slowly, they all clapped. This small show of support, however disingenuous, may be enough to save their lives at least one more day.

Bail accompanied Padme and her small entourage back to her office. As soon as the door was closed, Padme’s hands were on her desk, catching herself as her legs felt weak. Jar

Jar was beside her quickly, his large, surprisingly strong arms supporting her.

“Yousa okeeday, Senator?” Even Jar Jar, who could be the simplest of them all, knew how dire this was.

“No…” she breathed. “Everything is ended, Jar Jar… Everything…”

“We need to act…” Bail’s voice shook, not quiet with fear, but desperation. “How can we just allow this to happen?”

Padme was shaking her head, willing herself to stand on her own two feet, her hand gently set on Jar Jar’s arm.

“No… We don’t have a chance if we oppose him now… _Emperor Palpatine_ … Others have already been arrested, Bail…”

His eyes widened. He didn’t even know. He sank into a chair, slouching in a way that she had never seen the dignified diplomat do before. Completely deflated, at a loss.

“All of this was part of his plan…” Bail said in a quiet daze. “My own agents have brought me information of the engagement with General Grievous on Utapau… All of the Separatist Leaders were holed up on that planet—Nute Gunray, Wat Tambor, Poggle the Lesser—all of them were there. And along with Grievous they were all killed.”

Padme stared.

Anakin? No, it wasn’t possible.

“Are you sure…?”

He nodded weakly. “My intel tells me that the clones only found the bodies afterward, cut down by a lightsaber. One of clones said they had seen from afar the flash of a red blade through the windows of the droid control center.”

Red lightsaber? That couldn’t have been Anakin. A Sith, like Dooku or other Dark Side users who led the Separatists.

“Was Anakin on Utapau?”

“Evidently, yes. It was his battalion there. When his men asked him what happened, he told them it was Lord Vader. No one knows who this Vader is, but now… I can only wonder if he serves Palpatine…”

Anakin didn’t tell her about this Vader person. It crossed her mind that Anakin was now working with a Sith… to serve the now Emperor, and her chest felt tight. She refused to believe it. Anakin was confused, that was all. She could not blame him when the Order he committed himself to had betrayed the man he considered his dearest friend. That was the kindness in her that saw him that way, though. The politician, the realist, could not forget the disturbing things he said to her the night before and the continued obsessive longing he had for her. He still believed they could be together, and she cringed to think about it.

A chime at her desk interrupted the silence. She moved to answer it, and the small hologram figure of Mas Amedda appeared in his horned glory.

“ _Senator Amidala… Your Emperor requests your service in a show of cooperation to the New Galactic Empire… Every system will be asked to declare their loyalty to the Empire. Naboo shall be the first to declare, to be a symbol for others to follow. As the native home of His Highness, there is no other choice._ ”

She knew the Queen’s stance. She knew the Queen would be horrified and refuse. “And if she chooses not to declare her loyalty…?”

His small, ghostly face scrunched. “ _Then the Naboo will be deemed enemies of the Republic, and the system will be forced into Martial Law. For the security of the galaxy, there must be unity._ ”

She held on for dear life to her politician mask, she did not want this being to see her fear. “I will depart for Naboo immediately, then…”

 _“It is your duty to make certain that Queen Apailana complies when the Emperor’s emissary, Lord Vader, arrives. All she may need is your wisdom and guidance on the right thing to do, Senator Amidala…_ ”

The communication was terminated from his end and she was left staring at the smooth top of her desk. Nothing was shocking anymore. Every blow was received numbly at this point.

“Who _is_ this Lord Vader?” Captain Typho finally spoke, sharply, his thumb hooked on his utility belt as he approached. “Senator, I don’t believe the Queen will be eager to comply…”

“I don’t think so, either…” She sucked in a breath, shaking herself out of the fear that threatened to paralyze her. “We must return to Naboo. Now.”

“Yes, My Lady…”

“Yousa wanten me to come with, m’lady?” Jar Jar asked, his standing eyes clearly at a loss.

When things were normal, she would leave Jar Jar in her place as her representative. But things were not normal, and Coruscant was beginning to feel more and more like a deathtrap.

“Yes,” she looked up at him. “We should go home together. While we still can.”

He gulped and nodded his bill. He was afraid, but he had learned not to voice it even if he couldn’t hide it. She took both of his large hands in hers, squeezing them.

“It’ll be okay… I promise…”

“But der bomba danger weesa goin’ home…”

She managed a sad smile. “It never stopped us before. This is _for_ home.”

That was enough to bring at least a closed mouth smile on the Gungan’s face and he nodded again, this time with more enthusiasm. “Mesa ready, m’lady!”

“Good… I must go pack.” As if she wasn’t already packed. She walked around the chair that Bail had sunk into to stand in front of him. “I can only assume they will be making the same… _request_ of Alderaan…”

He nodded. “I can only assume the same… Ah, Senator…” he pushed himself out of his chair to his full height. “I hate to delay your departure… but would you mind joining me on a brief detour?”

“Where?”

“Just to my ship, in the dock… I would be glad to take you home after…”

He was acting very strange. But she recognized that he was trying to get her out of the official offices, away from any spy droids or recording devices. His ship would protect them from prying ears. She nodded and looked to Typho.

“Captain, will you take Motee home? I’ll meet you both there… you too, Jar Jar… and we will leave for Naboo together.”

Typho’s one eye looked dubiously from Bail to Padme. He never did like leaving her unguarded. He knew better than to argue, though. “Of course, Senator…”

Padme walked out of the office alongside Bail and they passed casually among the other politicians in the curved halls of the building. They said very little along the way, even in the elevator. She followed him to his Alderaanian ship, _Tantive III_. The Corellian corvette was sizeable enough to carry a crew of at least two dozen, and was captained by

Bail’s most trusted confidant, Captain Antilles. The white interior of the ship was beautiful, befitting a royal consort. He walked with her slowly down one of the corridors, his hands behind his back.

“Now that we are somewhere safe…” he began slowly. “I can tell you that I had received a message last night from Obi-Wan Kenobi…”

She stopped and faced him. Her eyes fixed wide, her breath short. After trying to reach him all night… “Obi-Wan? Why did he call you?”

“He’s been attacked, like all the other Jedi… He said that the clones destroyed Varykino.”

“Destroyed it…” she had to repeat it, as if it could make it real. 

He shrugged helplessly. “I have not seen it with my own eyes, but I saw Obi-Wan through the holocom… He is alive, but injured… He is in hiding now somewhere on Naboo in the lake country.”

All that mattered was that he was alive. But her legs felt suddenly weak, her knees shaking with the effort to keep her standing. She had already decided that the first thing she would do when returning to Naboo was to find him, wherever he was.

Bail lightly touched at her elbow, silently motioning her to continue walking. “That is only one reason why I had brought you here, however. I hoped to keep you as uninvolved as possible, but I was asked to bring you here…”

“Asked? By whom?”

A door at the end of the corridor opened, and seated at a large conference table inside, was Master Yoda.


	26. Chapter 26

“Very pleased to see you I am, Senator…” Yoda’s wrinkled green face offered up a warm smile, but it could not hide the pain behind the eyes.

When she thought she couldn’t possibly feel anymore, she was washed over with fear to be on this ship with someone who was called a traitor of the Republic. But that was indoctrinated reflex. What she truly felt in the presence of Master Yoda was peace and safety. Somehow in this one room, his very presence seemed to color the walls with calm.

The rest of the world was terror and tension, but in here it was relief.

“Please. Sit.” He said gently, a small three-fingered hand gesturing to a chair beside him.

Dazedly she sat down, and Bail sat across from her, with Yoda between them at the head of the table.

“Master Yoda…” she finally found her voice. “Why have you brought me here?”

“You’re help, I need…” he spoke slowly, pointedly. “Betrayed, the Jedi were, by the Clone Army. Killed, they have been, by their own soldiers. If survived any have, heard from them we have not…”

“I took in Master Yoda when he returned from Kashyyyk…” Bail explained.

Yoda may not have shown his grief, but she could not stop the quiver in her lip. “What about the Jedi at the temple?”

“No one survived…” Bail’s voice shook. “It was overtaken by clones…”

“Spared, none. Not even younglings,” Yoda said quietly, his eyes and ears dipping as the sorrow overwhelmed his ageless calm. “Returned to the temple, I have, to deactivate a beacon calling all off-planet Jedi home. Clinging to the halls of the temple, a dark presence, I felt. Killed by lightsaber, many of the Jedi and younglings were… The killer is Lord Vader.”

Bail looked to Yoda in shock. “We’ve already heard all kinds of things about this Lord Vader… But who is he, Master?”

Whatever grief had softened Yoda’s face was chased away by a stern resolve. “A Sith, he is… The apprentice to the Dark Lord that the council has searched for. Controlling the Senate, Darth Sidious has been… and Emperor he now is.”

“That can’t be true,” Padme felt like a fool for how many times she had voiced disbelief. “Palpatine couldn’t possibly be a Sith…” She was still not even clear on what a Sith was, but she could not see him as anything worse than yet another politician corrupted by power.

“Blinded, we were… Fooled by the wiles of the Dark Side…” Yoda’s eyes closed under a frown. “The penalty we have paid, for our arrogance…”

“Lord Vader is the Sith apprentice?” Padme said suddenly. “He’s being sent to Naboo soon… How can we protect ourselves?”

Yoda’s eyes opened, bright with interest. “Going to Naboo, you say? Hm. To destroy the Sith is the destiny of the Jedi…”

“Master Yoda…” Bail implored. “Surely you are not planning to take them on alone?”

To this, Yoda smiled. “Alone? Impossible, that would be. Two there are of the Sith… Two there are of the Jedi.”

He reached into his robe, and as if by magic produced a lightsaber. It could not have been his personal weapon, it was far too large. He held it out to Padme.

She couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of her. “I am not a Jedi.”

“No… But where a Jedi is, you know… _You know_ …”

“Obi-Wan?”

“Left the order he may have, but stopped being a Jedi?” Yoda let out a closed-mouth chuckle. “A Jedi always, he will be. His lightsaber, bring to him. Fight Darth Vader, he will.”

“I do not mean to doubt Obi-Wan’s capability…” Bail glanced apologetically to Padme. “But will he be up to the challenge? From what I’ve heard, this Vader is a monster. Obi-Wan hasn’t held a lightsaber in two years. To say nothing of his injuries…”

Yoda listened patiently. “If trust in the Force Obi-Wan does, then that is all he will need. Few superior swordsmen have the Jedi seen, than Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

Master Yoda had such faith in Obi-Wan, this centuries-old being. It was more than the fact that they could have been the last of the Jedi. She could feel the respect he had for Obi-Wan—but she could not easily send him into such a dangerous fight. Besides, he _wasn’t_ the only lightsaber wielder.

“But Anakin…” she implored. “He’s the Chosen One, isn’t he? He’s here, now, on Coruscant. Surely he would be willing to fight the Sith… If we talked to him, he would reconsider his loyalty to the Chance— The _Emperor_ …” 

To this, Yoda sadly shook his head. “Lost to the Jedi, Young Skywalker is. Misread, the prophecy was…”

“Misread?” she scoffed. “That prophecy… it controlled his whole life! The burden it placed on him, everything he ever did was to live up to what he believed the Chosen One should be…” she trailed off as she realized she was speaking out passionately at a Jedi Master. And one who had lost everything.

Though his green face was stoic, she could see in his deep eyes that he knew every agonizing truth of it. She was not telling him anything he did not already know.

“Forgive me…” she said quietly, her eyes dipping to her hands with shame.

“Nothing, there is, to forgive…” his gravelly voice said kindly. “The loss of Anakin Skywalker, a scar, forever will be…”

He held the lightsaber out to her again.

“Fight Darth Sidious, I will, when Obi-Wan faces Darth Vader. Help us, Obi-Wan Kenobi must. Our only hope, he is.”

* * *

Padme’s mirror-hulled skiff flew down over the gleaming waters of Varykino Lake, the water and the ship reflecting off one another in the gloomy, clouded winter sky. The Lake House in the winter, when it became cold enough to snow, was beautiful in a crystalline way. But as the ship approached, the gleaming domes and the majestic pillars were not there to greet her.

All that could be seen on the hillside was a mass of rubble, a few standing, jagged walls, and white shapes of Clone Troopers loitering on the mountain of debris. Whatever transport they came in was nowhere in sight, these soldiers had been left and posted here.

Typho was in the pilot’s seat, Padme standing over him and holding onto the back of his seat as they looked out the window. Her chest hurt, her eyes burning. She couldn’t cry though. Nothing made sense enough for her to cry, even as she told herself that she was looking at the charred remains of her childhood, a secret marriage with Anakin that was like a blissful dream, and the place where she had expected to join Obi-Wan, to be with him, happy and at peace. And now Obi-Wan, one of the remaining joys she had left, was somewhere in the woods. Cold, alone, in pain. 

“What a tragedy…” C-3PO lamented from his seat behind Captain Typho. “It was such a beautiful place, too…”

“Oh, milady…” Elle’s small voice said behind her.

Her handmaidens were standing behind her. They too had spent considerable time there with her, and the sorrow on Elle and Mottee’s faces matched what she felt inside. Padme didn’t say anything, she simply turned to her handmaidens and pulled them both in tight. They formed a small, tight circle, and Padme finally felt the beginnings of tears. She sniffed and held on to her friends tighter.

“Don’t worry, my lady…” Mottee said as bravely as she could. “I’m sure Master Kenobi is alright…”

The handmaiden could read her mind, after all their time together.

“Senator…” Typho gently interrupted. “We need a plan to find Master Kenobi. His beacon is on, but he is not answering his calls…”

Padme pulled away from her handmaidens and looked out the window once more, steeling herself and finding her resolve. This was a mission, like any other. Typho flew the skiff in a wide circle over the ruins. There was no place to land, a deliberate design of the place.

“We will have to land ashore and come in the gondolas… These soldiers can’t keep me away from my own property.” She spoke defiantly, as if speaking to the soldiers themselves.

Typho complied and the skiff was landed across the lake in town. Padme was wearing a field outfit, pants and boots, a long cloak with a bunched collar to protect her from the chill and a hood if she needed it. Hidden beneath the coat, she concealed a blaster. Her hair pulled back tight, the long tail of it braided along the length of her back.

Typho watched her arm herself and he sighed. “I hope that won’t be necessary…”

“So do I…” They were all looking to her for orders. “Captain… You can hire an air speeder in town, something small, inconspicuous, anything that will make it easier to access the hill where Obi-Wan’s beacon is coming from… Take Mottee and Jar Jar with you… Elle and I will go to the house. That is… what’s left of it… I want to get those soldiers off my property, and perhaps distract them from your search.”

Typho nodded. “The signal from his beacon is more than strong enough for us to pinpoint exactly where he is.”

“Meesa berry good at climbin’ mountains,” Jar Jar said proudly, patting his skinny chest. “Won’t take longo time for weesa find Obi!”

She trusted they would, but it was torture not to go herself.

“Threepio… You an Artoo stay with the ship.”

“You can rely on us, my lady!” C-3PO said cheerfully.

They went their separate ways. Padme and Elle went together in a gondola for the lake house remains. The closer they came to the small dock, which was still intact and unscathed, the deeper her heart dropped into her stomach.

Two clones came to meet her, their helmets off. They were indeed identical, though one looked to be a generation older, his hair colored on one side, the other younger and with a short buzz. They both carried their blaster rifles, their armor painted with yellow highlights.

“Stop right there…” the older clone, a sergeant said. “This area is off limits to civilians.”

“My name is Senator Padme Amidala,” she said sternly. They showed no reaction, so she elaborated. “This is my home.”

They looked suddenly to each other, the younger clone’s eyes opening wide. They didn’t even know what this place was when they had destroyed it. The anger was beginning to fester inside of her.

“I… I’m sorry, my lady, but this area is still off limits.”

“You have no authority to keep me from my own property. Step aside.” She moved forward, they blocked her path with their armored bodies.

“What’s going on?” Another clone voice broke in, one with tighter words and more authority. He carried under his arm a helmet with a yellow visor, the markings of a commander on his uniform.

“She says she’s a Senator, Commander,” said the sergeant.

“Padme Amidala. This is… was my home.”

“I’m Commander Cody.” The leader said simply.

The same commander who once served under Obi-Wan. She had never met him till now, and she had to clutch her collar tighter at her throat to pretend to ward off the cold, and hide the shaking in her hands.

“Why have you destroyed my home?” She couldn’t stop the tremble in her voice though. “Under whose authority?”

“Under the authority of the Emperor, my lady,” Cody said without a beat. “A fugitive and traitor to the Empire was being kept here, and as such he and the property have been destroyed.”

“That’s ridiculous! What traitor? If you have them, then where are they? Where are the others who lived here?”

“There was collateral damage. Four bodies have been recovered, we are still searching for the rest.”

“And one of the bodies… was the traitor?”

“The traitor hasn’t been identified yet. Senator, I think you should leave now. This property is now under investigation by the Imperial Army. We have specific orders not to arrest you, but if you interfere, it may force our hands.”

Emperor. Imperial Army. It came off his tongue so naturally, as if he had said it his whole life.

“Let me see the bodies you recovered…” she managed to say, though her throat was unbearably tight. “I can identify them, at least. Please… They were my friends…”

Cody huffed, his stern face glancing to the identical faces of his subordinates. “Very well…. Sergeant, escort the Senator to the recovered bodies.”


	27. Chapter 27

Something was thumping his chest. When he cracked open his one good eye, he saw a spotted hand waving in front of his eyes, and beyond it, a goofy duck-billed, toothy smile.

“Obi!”

“Jar Jar…” Obi-Wan groaned. “Oh dear…”

“Master Kenobi!” That voice was more pleasant, it sounded like Captain Typho. “You’re badly hurt… Come on, we’re going to get you out of here…”

Two pairs of arms were helping him onto his feet and he painfully uncurled from his huddle within the tree. He was soaked to the bone and freezing. Overnight a frost had fallen and melted when day came. He groaned with the sharp pain that went through him with every movement.

“ _Easy_ …” Obi-Wan snapped.

“Weesa getten yousa some place safey, okeeday?” Jar Jar said urgently, whipping his head to and fro. One sharp turn of his head and his floppy ear slapped Obi-Wan in the face.

“Ungh….”

It was a low defeated noise that rose out of the former Jedi. Everything that could happen might as well happen at this point, and that included Jar Jar.

They brought him to an air speeder that hovered over the steep terrain of the mountain. Typho and Jar Jar laid him down on the back seat and they took the front, Typho at the controls. Obi-Wan’s whole body ached and he was chilled to the bone, but he was restless, and he did not want to lie there looking up at the clouds. When he tried to sit up, he was gently pushed back down.

Padme leaned over him, her soft knuckles touching at his brow, feeling his temperature. That was more than enough to get him to comply and he sighed heavily. He gently took her hand, thinking he may not have had the chance again, and he kissed her palm.

“Oh! Master Kenobi….”

That… wasn’t Padme’s voice. He blinked his one bleary eye at her, and sure enough as he focused harder, it was one of her many doubles…

“Oh… Hello… And you are…?”

“Mottee…” she was covering her mouth with her other hand, and he realized he was still holding it.

He let go. “So sorry…”

“It’s alright…” She was bright red. “Milady will be glad to see you’re alive. We were all very worried.”

“How is Padme?”

Mottee’s gaze dipped. “With everything that’s happened, it has been very difficult… You should rest, Master Kenobi. You’re safe.”

He wanted to insist that he was fine, but the smooth flying of the air speeder, and the warmth he was just beginning to feel, he could not keep his eyes open.

* * *

Padme was able to identify each and every body that was recovered, and Paddy Accu was among them. She wondered if her parents knew yet… or her sister? She would have to tell them, let them know she was home. Let them know that things were more dangerous than ever for Naboo.

She did not thank Commander Cody or any of the clones for letting her stay in the ruins as long as she had. She did not grant them the time of day after that. She simply climbed back into the gondola with Typho and Elle and returned across the lake. There was one good thing waiting for her in her skiff, one light breaking through the clouds of destruction that seemed to be growing and she ran up the ramp and into the ship to find him.

She flew past Captain Typho and Jar Jar to the cot in the back compartment. C-3PO and R2-D2 were nearby, observing everything. Mottee was leaning over Obi-Wan, bacta in her hand, and a few fresh gauzes. There was a blanket over him and he was shivering.

“Obi-Wan…” she gasped.

“He’s been sleeping since we found him…”

Mottee moved aside and Padme practically threw herself on top of him kissing his newly cleaned face, a few specks of blood still at his hair line. His eyes opened heavily.

“Padme? Is it you?”

He must have been confused, possibly delirious. “You’ve hit your head… Of course it’s me…”

“Not a decoy this time…” He was smiling.

Mottee giggled behind her. “He thought I was you, Milady…”

Padme was smiling now too, a tear running down her cheek. The past few days had been a nightmare, and for the first time, something went right. He was safe, he was here. Her fingers combed the damp locks of auburn from his eyes, tracing every curve of his face, the tuft of his beard. She simply couldn’t take her eyes off of him, and his hands settled over hers, his thumb stroking the back of her hand.

“It is a relief to see that you are well, Master Kenobi,” C-3PO chimed in from across the compartment.

Obi-Wan lifted his head a little to look past Padme, squinting a bit. “Thank you, Threepio…” he blinked in confusion as his gaze lowered to the small astromech droid. “Is that… Is that Artoo?”

Artoo twittered and tootled at him.

“How…?”

Before he could even begin to form the inevitable question about Anakin, a throat clearing drew their attention. Typho was standing there, but he kept his one eye averted.

“We should be on the move again, Senator…” he politely suggested.

“You’re right…” She sat up, though she held Obi-Wan’s hand. “Take us to Theed. We’ll be able to get Obi-Wan proper medical care there, and I can speak to the Queen... We’ll be safe at the capital.”

Typho offered a rare smile and saluted her before heading for the cockpit. The young captain was always glad to go home, and she could feel the same relief among her handmaidens as well. The skiff thrummed as its engines ignited and it rose into the air, destined for Theed.

Mottee discreetly slipped away, following Captain Typho to the cockpit and Padme took over for her at Obi-Wan’s side using a clean swab to wipe away the dried blood from his brow, her fingers combing into his damp auburn hair in an attempt to find the source of it. There was a significant bump on the top of his head and he winced when she brushed it with the pads of her fingers.

“I’m sorry…” she whispered.

He closed his eyes, a touch of a smile on his lips. “I’m simply glad to feel your touch again…”

They almost didn’t have this chance to be together again. It felt like a miracle that they were, after everything that had happened. All of the events were beginning to come back to her and her throat felt tight.

“We lost _everything_ …” It was all she could whisper.

His brow furrowed, his eyes opening beneath heavy lids. “Is it true then? About the Jedi?”

She knew if she spoke, her voice would break. She could only press her lips together and nod.

His eyes pinched closed, and in spite of his injuries, he was sitting up. She gave him space to do so, and he did not get very far. He sank forward, his face falling into his hands. Where could she begin in comforting him? She had lost so much herself, but it could not compare to the extinction of the Order he once belonged to, that he had still loved. There was nothing she could say, so she simply put her arms around him.

He shrank in her embrace, his face buried against her, his shoulders low with grief and his breathing hoarse. If he was still officially a Jedi, perhaps he would have put on a stoic front, like Yoda did. But then again, Obi-Wan was so much younger than the green master, and he had so much heart. The more heart, the more there was to damage. Not a sound came from him, but she felt the warmth of tears on her neck.

“Are there any Jedi left?” He spoke, his breath against her throat. “Artoo, is here… does that mean that Anakin…?” he couldn’t even say it.

“Anakin’s alive,” she soothed. “And one other Jedi that I know of…”

That was enough to lift his head, light in the blue of his reddened eyes.

“Master Yoda…” Somehow he knew already, and relief washed over him. “I might have known he would survive…” he almost smiled. “And of course Anakin…”

“Obi-Wan…” she didn’t want to talk about it, not when she saw that look of hope in his eye. “Anakin’s no longer a Jedi. With the whole Order being declared traitors, he’s joined with the Empire…”

“ _Empire?_ ” His features hardened and he sat back, sheer disbelief on his face.

He didn’t know. He had missed it all. So she had to explain it all to him, that the Republic was dead, that Palpatine had declared himself Emperor to the cheers of the Senate, and all the Jedi were hunted down as enemies to the Empire. Now Anakin was serving his friend, who ruled everything.

“Master Yoda told me that Palpatine is the Sith Lord…” she reported it, even though she still did not understand it. “The one that the Jedi had been looking for…”

Obi-Wan turned white. “It’s been him… all along…” he was blinking dazedly. “He’s orchestrated all of this… Does Anakin know?”

She shook her head, at a loss. “I don’t know. He truly believes the Jedi betrayed Palpatine and Anakin is more loyal to him than ever…”

He was so quiet and still as he listened, his brow furrowed. He then shook his head.

“Anakin would never serve a Sith. He must be too close to see it.”

Anakin had been bled dry of his love for the Jedi, she knew this, but she didn’t want to believe it any more than Obi-Wan did.

“He’s very lost…” That was all she could offer, weak and useless.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and sucked in a breath, as if in pain, and she was not sure if it was his injuries or his heart. She laid her hand gently on his arm.

“There’s more…” she said reluctantly. She wanted to leave him to rest, to not bombard him with one blow after another. “Yoda said that Palpatine has an apprentice. There’s someone called Lord Vader who has been Palpatine’s strong arm. He’s the one who killed General Grievous and all the Separatist Leaders. And he is coming here, to Naboo, for the Queen to declare her loyalty to the Empire.”

“He’s the new Sith apprentice,” Obi-Wan wasn’t asking, he already knew. “Then it’s too late… They’ve won. And we did not even see the night coming.”

“That doesn’t mean we’re done fighting.” 

Rising to her feet, she walked away to the storage compartment. There she found the bundle that was his Jedi robes, and with it the lightsaber that Yoda had put into her hand. She carried it to him and placed it in his lap.

As if it was about to spring from his lap, he cautiously reached for it, to turn it over in his hand with wonder. Before he could even ask the question, she answered it.

“Yoda. He wanted me to give it to you…” It crossed her mind to throw it in the lake and convince him to run away with her, to stay away from anything Sith or Jedi. But she could never live with herself if she did. “He’s going to confront Palpatine… And he wants you to fight Vader…”

“Me?”

He looked like a confused boy all of a sudden and she had to smile, even though it killed her. “He said you’ve never stopped being a Jedi. I have to agree with him. You are the only two Jedi left, Obi-Wan… If anyone can defeat the Sith, it’s you. It’s the only hope we have left.”

There was no Senate to fight for the people, they did not even have a Clone Army anymore.

He was quiet as he stared at the weapon in his hand, his finger ghosting over the cylindrical shape, taking in every ridge and every button of the thing he had built, the thing that had defined him throughout his life. She could see that he had regained a piece of himself, yet there was hesitation. He breathed out, closed his eyes for a moment, and calmed.

“When can we expect this… Lord Vader?”


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MAY THE FOURTH BE WITH YOU!

Queen Apailana was thirteen years old. She was raised on the stories of when Naboo was occupied by the Trade Federation—just before she was even born—and how Queen Amidala with the help of brave Jedi had united the Naboo and Gungans and took back their world. This was all without the help of other systems or the Republic itself, and in defiance of a congress that did nothing but talk. So when came the word that Emperor Palpatine was sending a mysterious emissary in his name to demand their loyalty to the new Empire, her response was a resounding _No._

They would not bow to this dictatorship, regardless that the Emperor himself hailed from this little, placid world. Her stance inevitably would bring danger to Naboo, as all the opposition to the new Empire was being systematically eliminated. The Empire wanted Naboo to be the emblem of subjugation, and Queen Apailana wanted to ensure it was a symbol of independence and democracy.

The decision was not an easy one by any means. The future was blackened and uncertain.

History was repeating itself for Obi-Wan. Thirteen years ago he was in Theed as more than a freedom fighter. He was here to fight a war that was much older, ancient and sacred.

Once again, he was here to fight a Sith.

When they arrived in Theed they were welcomed by the Queen and offered rooms to stay at the Palace. Obi-Wan was given medical care, bacta treatments for his wounds, which allowed him to heal at an exponential rate. Every day after, Obi-Wan was asked to join Padme in the throne room council to discuss their situation, to offer his own insight. Why they needed his insight, he was not entirely sure. He still had not donned the Jedi robes that Padme salvaged for him, though he did keep his lightsaber on his belt at all times. With or without the weapon, they could not see him as anything other than a Jedi.

Queen Apailana made it clear to him that Naboo would be a sanctuary for any Jedi who might have survived, and the Gungans offered the same. The Naboo and the Gungans were ready for whatever may come their way. During the years of the Clone Wars, they had improved upon their armies and defenses. They would not be as easy to conquer as they were 13 years ago.

They would let this Lord Vader come to them and try to squeeze loyalty from them, but he would be met with firm resistance. The people of Theed—indeed, all of Naboo—were called to fight. Families and elderly were leaving the city to seek a safer place outside of the capital, and the soldiers, pilots, police, and every uniformed security unit were being assembled and readied. The might of the new Empire was likely to come down on them and leading them was something darker and more powerful.

On their third night at the palace, Padme excused herself to call her parents again. She had been in touch with her family regarding the fate of their lake house, and to let them know that she was safe. While she needed privacy, Obi-Wan withdrew to one of the colonnades that overlooked the waterfalls behind the palace.

It was the afternoon and the diffused light of the sun behind the winter clouds projected almost no shadows. The scenery was far from bleak, though. The expanse of the countryside at the base of the cliff was green and vast, but Theed in its higher altitude was blanketed in the purest layer of snow. Inches of it sat piled atop the rails along the straight path of the colonnade, a few tiny flakes of snow occasionally drifting through between the columns. The snowfall had come over night, and they woke to the spectacle of winter.

He stole away to this empty corridor behind the palace where no one seemed to walk. He stood quietly, breathing in the fresh air, meditating. The crisp chill and the clean sight opened Obi-Wan’s mind, purging away the potential dread and anxieties. But it didn’t chase away the sorrow that was inside—nothing ever could. He held on dearly to his happiness—to having Padme—but he was never one to completely release the losses of his life. All that training to let go, and he could not. All of his Jedi Brethren were still there. Qui-Gon Jinn was still there. Anakin would always be there.

Throughout his life, there was always a thread to all of them in the Force. A small pluck or a hard pull, and he could find them on the other end. Even Qui-Gon, after his death, was somewhere on the other side of the longest thread. Right now, those threads felt loose. He could not tell if they reached so far beyond him that they were slack, or if they had been severed. The Force felt so tangled, so broken.

And Theed was a monument to it all, though he wished he did not dwell on it. This beautiful, stone architecture was the backdrop to where he first laid eyes on Padme in her handmaiden disguise, to when he lost his master, faced his first Sith, stared into his master’s funeral pyre, and took Anakin under his wing with a promise that defied the Jedi council.

The Force was a wonder in how those things defined his life and who he was. The Force had brought him back to this beautiful, bitter place.  
He calmly unhooked his lightsaber from his belt. It was strange to have been training with this weapon in the past couple of days, still wearing civilian clothes—a flight jacket, a simple shirt, and trousers—but wielding the weapon of a Jedi once more was like regaining a lost limb. It never ceased to be an extension of him.

Hands and body moved gracefully in each practiced technique, stance, and maneuver. The blade singing its deep song with each twirl or sweep, the blue light gleaming against the pillars around him, the frequency in its kyber crystal in tune with his very soul. It carried him back into the wavelength of the Force and the streams and eddies of time and destiny. Little by little, he could untangle the uncertaint, one thread at a time. Every battle he had faced with a lightsaber passed through him, but lingering on his only duel here on Naboo all those years ago.

All of it leading up to this moment where the galaxy depended upon him killing yet another Sith who he had never even laid eyes on. Another Maul, though he was not foolish enough to assume they were the same. Something in the Force was whispering warnings about this Lord Vader, that he was not only formidable, but an inescapable destiny. That threat was tightening, but still so tangled it was elusive. The Dark Side surrounding Palpatine—that is, Darth Sidious—was so powerful in the absence of the Jedi, that Obi-Wan had never felt so blind or disoriented.

He swung hard, the lightsaber whirling easily with his wrist in a disk of light and coming to rest at his side. Just as it seemed the Dark Side was surrounding him, a light broke through and chased the clouds from his thoughts. He turned towards it and saw Padme walking towards him along the length of the colonnade. She was wrapped in a cozy throw, a magnificent smile spreading on her face when their eyes met from afar. He deactivated the weapon and walked towards her to close the distance quicker.

“You must be freezing out here…” she said.

Without waiting for a reply, one half of the throw was thrown over his shoulders and she pulled in close to wrap around them both. It was not until she was pressed against him so warm that he realized how chilled he had gotten.

“How are you parents?” he asked, slipping his arms around her and resting his cheek against her temple as they both looked out at the distant horizon of the grassland.

“They’re doing well… They want me to come home. They don’t want me here when the Emperor’s emissary arrives…”

“They may have a point…”

“I want nothing more than to go home… and I want you to come with me.”

Meeting the parents. Well, that was not a situation that Obi-Wan had ever imagined himself in. He was surprised at how it made him smile.

“It would be an honor to meet them… When this is over.”

“It seems like it will never be over…” she said weakly. “There is never an end. There is always war.”

He felt the fatigue from her down to the bone. They were both tired, and he could think of no reassuring words for her. He could not promise her peace, he did not have Anakin’s arrogance or ambition for it.

“For generations the Jedi have sworn to uphold peace…” he mused aloud, solemnly. “I do not think I have ever truly experienced peace…”

She lifted her head to look at him, almost fearfully. He managed a smile to comfort her.

“Of course, if there was always peace, then there would be nothing to works towards.”

She smiled too, though it was less convincing, the effort warmed him from the snow.

“I think we’ve worked enough, don’t you?” she was searching his eyes. “I just want you, Obi-Wan… I’m tired of everything else…” 

Neither of them had ever lived in a world that they could shut out and selfishly be together. The greatest obstacle to their happiness had been their mutual curse of duty. He knew he couldn’t promise her that, and in spite of her words, he knew that she was not truly asking for it. Fingers trailed along her cheek and he lightly placed a kiss on her lips.

“Come on... It’s colder than space out here…”

She slipped her hand through his arm, letting him lead her back inside the palace and along the immense corridors until they reached their shared room. The marble floor that stretched the entire length of the palace was covered in ornate rugs, to hold in some warmth, a tall fireplace in the wall already blazing with fire. There were fancy trappings all around the room, from the scroll-ended sofas, to the detailed tapestries, and artful sculptures made by masters of the past. Naboo prided itself on its arts, and it was unequaled throughout the galaxy.

The moment they were in the room, the door shut and locked, he was accosted by a rush of impulsiveness. It was a thing he chided his padawan for, but in these strange times, he did not wish to take anything more for granted. The urge came and he acted on it, pulling Padme into his arms and kissing her madly.

Whatever had been distracting her seemed to flee her mind with the surprised sound that rose out of her. Her arms folded around his neck and she hung on him weakly. Her mouth opened wide, deepening the kiss and stealing his breath from him. His hands swept along the curves of her, the delicate shape of her from her ribs, her waist, her hips. There was muscle there that was always concealed beneath her gowns, and the thought of how strong she was—not just spiritually, but physically—excited him in a surprising way. She would have been a powerful Jedi.

With their bodies pulled together, he was guiding her to the bed, his lips finding their way to her neck and throat. She suddenly pulled away, flushed with lust. The throw was dropped from her shoulders, and she was slipping out of her dress, her gaze fixed with his until she stood before him naked. The sight of her in the light of the fireplace left him more breathless now than she ever had before.

The smile that tugged at her lips was devilish and she crawled onto the bed atop all the blankets, on her back, her knees together as she sat up on her elbows. Her brows jumped as she looked him over, and she did not need to utter a word for him to get her meaning.

_Your turn._

Obi-Wan Kenobi was well known for his grace and dignity as a swordsman and general. It failed him horribly at this moment as he flapped out of his jacket and pulled his shirt over his head, kicking off his boots and pants with something of a struggle as he tried to catch up with her. He had hardly gotten a knee onto the bed when she had him by the face, pulling him in for a kiss, and he melded on top of her, all skin and warmth, his ears ringing with need.

As they kissed, their hands explored each other as if for the first time, and he was chilled with the passing thought that it was the last. There was no telling what tomorrow would bring, and the Force was whispering caution.

Padme’s whole body moved, gently coaxing both of them onto their side, and then him on his back. She was astride him, kissing him deeply, her hands kneading his chest, and then she broke away, slipping downward. Breathless and dazed with desire, he watched as she settled down between his knees, her hand around his erection.  
It was one thing for him to go down on her, to be the one giving selflessly, but for the tables to be turned, his face was burning and his body tensing.

“Padme…” he was hardly able to gasp out her name. He realized he couldn’t form a coherent sentence with the way she was stroking him, her breath hot against his member.

She smiled kindly up at him, kissed the sensitive head, and closed her mouth around it, slowly taking him in. He gasped with surprise at the sensation. The confines of her mouth were unbearably, amazingly hot, the friction of her tongue maddening, her hand stroking where her lips couldn’t reach.

“Oh…” he gasped out like a fool. “ _Oh_ …”

Withdrawing, she brought her head back down again, and it sent a violent shudder through him. Every movement of her mouth made him breathe in sharply with astonishment, and he had to reach over his head to grip at a pillow, his knuckles white and body trembling. He was confused with pleasure.

The pulse through his body pounded from his ears to his toes and he was writhing uncontrollably in response to her mouth and hand. In spite of himself a lewd moan rose from the back of his throat, every muscle in him tightening, his very toes curling.

He was sweating, his lungs working hard to pull in air and he was getting so very close, and he could not find the words to warn her. So close… and then she stopped. Though he was dizzy he managed to open his eyes, and her face was hovering close to his, her lips plump and red and she was smiling.

He couldn’t help the groan of disappointment that she stopped, but he was electrified anew to realize that even as their noses brushed, the rest of her body was moving. One agile leg went over him as she mounted over him, her weight balanced over his waist, brushing cruelly against his hard member.

The dark curls of her hair spilled from her shoulders, pouring across his chest and shoulders as she kissed him slowly. He was confined to her mouth and everything it could do, the way that it consumed him. Even with all the wonders that it could do, he would have been glad to simply kiss her forever. When their lips parted for air, he kissed at her collar bone and the tops of her breasts, her fingers clawing at his scalp in the way that always made him melt.

“Obi-Wan…” she whispered, her hand slipping down between them and slowly stroking him. “Let’s have the whole night… Let’s keep the morning away…”

For her, right now, he was willing to stop the planet in its rotation with his bare hands.

Her teeth were on his ear, her hand guiding him to her wet entrance. Her back arched as she brought her weight down onto him, a sharp inhale as she took him in. The heat, the tightness of her around him made him shudder, his hands settling onto the curves of her hips with need.

Deliberately she rolled her hips, working a careful, easy rhythm, the friction of her around him, her body atop his, her hands braced on his chest. That pause had bought him time, then as she began to buck faster, he was hurtling towards the precipice and he could not quiet the moan that rose out of him, an echo of the same pouring out of her.

“Padme….” He gasped her name and she whimpered in response, going harder, faster.

Her mouth fell hotly to his, a sloppy, drowning kiss, her fingers raking along the hair on his chest. The pressure was rising and he knew he couldn’t last much longer. She wanted him all night, and he was happy to accommodate, but at this rate he was about to tap out. A trembling cry rose out of him as the pleasure spiked.

“Wait, my love… Ah! Wait, wait…”

She slowed and stopped, panting and meeting his eye dazed. His tongue eased out to wet his lips, his fingers lightly kneading the skin on her thighs, that were hot to the touch.

“What is it…?” she whispered breathlessly, concerned.

He smirked, and she smiled, knowing that he was not yet finished. He gently urged her from her straddle over him until they were both on their knees. He took her hips and turned her. It only took a moment for her to catch on, and her cooperation excited him painfully. Facing her back to him, she dipped forward, the thick curls over one shoulder as she balanced on her hands and knees, looking behind her to him, beckoning.

He could still trace the nexu scars across her back, and the challenging look in her eye was never more frightening and exciting. He could not remember what it was to be patient. He pushed inside of her again, and the moan that escaped her was intoxicating. It was good before, but this new angle was mind numbing. One hand held her at her hip, the other gripping her forearm as she reached back for him, her hand holding onto his wrist for dear life. Bound together in this way, they were firmly anchored and he thrust into her in a frantic pace.

Everything was slippery from the exertion, neither of them able to speak, but their bodies moved and responded as if on their own. Her shoulders sank down and she screamed into her pillow, her spine dipping as she came undone and he could not hold on any longer.

He plunged deep into her, the muscles of his back and legs locking, a strangled cry rising out of him as he came hard so hard his vision went white for a moment. Beads of sweat were on his brow, auburn strands sticking to his skin. He nearly collapsed on top of her, but had just enough coherent thought left to pull out and drop face first onto the bed beside her. She stretched out next to him, gasping for air and even giggling deliriously.

Her fingers were raking at his hair, trying to find his eyes. He was a little cross-eyed, but when he saw her smiling at him, giddy and flushed, he smiled lazily. His body was heavy and numb and he could not act on his inclination to cuddle her.

She seemed to read his mind though, and she scooted closer enough to lay across his back, her breasts on his shoulder blades, her lips on the back of his neck, her legs wrapped around his.

“This is all I want…” she said sleepily. “This. Forever.”

The idea made the smile grow on his face. “Mmm… To be locked in a room with you from now to oblivion… To be my wife…”

The words flitted out straight from his brain, without consequence. It was the silence that made him aware of what he had said, the stillness of her on top of him. It seemed natural to him, but only now did he realize what it meant to her. She had been married to a Jedi once before.

“Of course, that part is entirely optional…” he calmly tried to back pedal, but his heart was racing again, terrified that he had frightened her.

She slowly rolled off of him, and when he was free, he turned to her, sitting up on his elbow to better see her, the light of the fireplace lighting half of her. She was staring at him, her mouth a straight line, her curls a beautiful mess around her head and over her shoulders as she sat on her knees, hugging herself.

“Obi-Wan… Are you proposing to me?”

He could not for the life of him read her tone, but he didn’t sense anger from her. Caution perhaps, but he was sure he felt the melody of joy. It was the same as his.

“Padme… The only reason I would need to not marry you… is if you didn’t want it.”

Now her lips parted, and for what seemed an eternity she stared at him. “I assumed you would never… The Jedi code…”

He couldn’t stop himself from laughing, and it provoked the same from her. “I’m afraid what we did _just tonight_ is reason enough to dismiss the Jedi Code…”

She was giggling sheepishly, something he almost never heard from his brave Queen, and she buried her face in her hands. He moved to his knees as well to peel her fingers from her face and bring them to his lips, his hair a mess in his eyes.

“Padme… Will you marry me?”

There were tears in her eyes, her cheeks still a shade of pink, and she nodded. Rather than speak, she pulled her hands free from his to throw her arms around his neck, pushing him onto his back on the mattress as she kissed him hard, but brief.

“Yes!” she laughed and kissed his cheek, his temple, his forehead, and then his lips once more.

“I love you, Padme… And I denied myself from saying it and believing it for so long, I cannot bear to lie anymore…”

“I love you, too… Why didn’t you ask me sooner?”

“It hardly seemed like a good idea up until now…” he answered honestly with a chuckle. He was grinning like a fool under her affections, his heart ready to fly out of his chest with a joy he had never felt before.

“We have never exactly been defined by good ideas…”

“Oh, I’ve had many good ideas, I think…” he pondered.

“You had a few tonight, I’ll give you that…” she giggled again.

He frowned playfully. “I find your lack of faith disturbing…”

“Then prove me wrong.”


	29. Chapter 29

“Obi-Wan… What are you doing in Padme’s room?”

“I could very well ask you the same.”

“I asked you first.”

Red was bleeding into his vision, the confusion clenching into fury. He had been looking forward to this for so long, to see Padme again, and to be here at her Lake House again. He was dying to be alone with her, to just hold her. Like always, Obi-Wan was ruining everything.

“Anakin….” Padme’s voice was like a cool salve, her hand on his arm like pressure on a wound. When his eyes met hers, the red subsided. “Can I talk to you alone, please?”

He didn’t like the sound of that. And he didn’t like how Obi-Wan excused himself, as if this was his idea. His master exited, the door closed, leaving Anakin alone with Padme. Did Obi-Wan know about them? He couldn’t breathe.

“Padme why was he in here?” he struggled to keep his voice calm, to push down the fear. “What’s wrong?”

She licked her lips nervously, blinking rapidly and looking away. She couldn’t even look at him. He was still as she moved away, her hand pressing to her forehead. She was trembling. He wanted to comfort her, but he could not shake the sensation that a finger was slowly squeezing a trigger.

“Ani… I’m ending this…”

“Ending…” the word had no meaning. “Ending… what…?”

She still wouldn’t look at him. “Our marriage. We never should have done it. We were foolish and immature…”

“No…” he forced a laugh, as if it would chase away the dread. “You’re tired and stressed from that mission. You’ll feel better once you’ve rested…”

“Anakin…” she winced. “I’ve tried to tell you, and never could. And you wouldn’t listen. I don’t— I don’t feel the same way that you do.”

“You don’t mean that… You’ve said it to me, you told me you loved me. I know you love me, Padme…” She was shaking her head, keeping her back to him, and he approached her. He set his hands on her small shoulders, to take her safe in his arms, and she shrank away from him.

“Anakin, don’t…” Her voice was cracking.

“I don’t understand…” he was stunned. “Where did this come from? What did Obi-Wan say to you?”

It couldn’t be a mind trick. That would never work on Padme, and Obi-Wan was above that sort of thing… Wasn’t he?

“It’s not Obi-Wan, it’s you…”

Now she was lying. He could feel it, something in the way she said his master’s name.

“Why are you lying, Padme? Whatever you’re afraid of, I’ll take care of it. You’ll be safe, I won’t let anything happen to you… Did Obi-Wan put you up to this?”

“No. This is my choice. I can’t let you do this anymore…” she said more firmly. “I should never have gone along with this in the first place, Anakin. I should have been stronger. It’s not your fault, I’m not blaming you…”

“Then why won’t you look at me?” he asked coldly. 

“I’m… afraid…”

“Of me?”

She didn’t answer. And that was as good as a yes.

It didn’t make sense.

“Whatever I did, just tell me… Or at least tell me what Obi-Wan said—”

“It’s not Obi-Wan!” she snapped, too defensively. “Please, leave him out of this…”

The red was filling his vision again. As always, she was defending Obi-Wan, protecting him from blame. But Anakin knew. Somehow, Obi-Wan was responsible for this, in the typical, underhanded Jedi way. He knew it, somewhere in his soul. The Force was telling him that this whole situation stank of Obi-Wan, but he could not understand how. His mind was leaping to the most frightening conclusions. He couldn’t calm his thoughts.

“Padme, please….” His voice was shaking, trying to bury the anger that always frightened him when it clawed to the surface. His eyes were burning, tears blurring his vision.

“Just talk to me… I thought we were happy.”

“Anakin…” she said softly, turning so that he could see her tear-filled eyes in her profile, though she still refused to look at him. “I do love you… but I’m not _in love_ with you. I can’t be your wife. I said it the moment you first told me about your feelings. I don’t know how much clearer I can be.”

“But you admitted that you love me too…” he wanted to scream, there was no logic to this. He felt like he was crazy. “You admitted it, you _told me!_ ”

“I wasn’t in my right mind!”

He moved towards again, she stepped away. 

“Don’t! Please, Anakin… Please… You need leave me in peace…”

He lost her. He could feel it. She had shut him out and the cold was closing around him. He was alone. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t believe any of it. But the finality of it was cutting him to the bone. He backed away from her—that was what she wanted—and he could feel her relief with every inch between them.

She used to run into his arms.

He stormed out of her room. He did not think to look for Obi-Wan. He needed to get away.

* * *

He couldn’t stand being around Obi-Wan. The jealous whispers in his mind told him things he didn’t want to believe. He was hurt and angry, he had enough awareness to know that his feelings were making him see enemies where there were none. Padme had had her reservations about their secret relationship before, that wasn’t as out of the blue as it seemed. But there was something else about her decision that felt wrong. She was never _afraid_ of him. And he had done nothing to deserve it.

As soon as they were on Coruscant, he was summoned to the office of Chancellor Palpatine. While the Chancellor had always been a sympathetic ear for him, and had provided comfort to him countless times in the past in a way that the Jedi never could, he was hesitant to see his friend. He was far too depressed and angry, Palpatine would see it and inquire and Anakin could never reveal his deepest secret—his love for and marriage to Padme. However, he knew he could not refuse an invitation from the Supreme Chancellor himself.

He put on what he thought was a convincingly brave front and walked into the ornate office, stopping at the Chancellor’s desk.

“You wanted to see me, Your Excellency?” He said, tightlipped, but with a forced casual air.

Palpatine had been looking out his window at the cityscape, as he often did, when he turned to the young Jedi. As soon as his wise, gentle eyes touched upon Anakin, they were immediately concerned.

“My dear boy… Are you alright?”

“Yes… I’m tired, that’s all…” He had the excuse readily available.

Palpatine sighed and stared at him, a look that saw right through the lie. “Anakin…” he said calmly, approaching the tall youth. “Have I not been your friend since you first arrived here? There are no secrets that you need to keep from me…”

Anakin pressed his lips tighter together. He wanted to tell him everything. He knew it was unwise.

The Chancellor set a warm hand on his shoulder. “Has… something happened on your last mission with Senator Amidala?”

The mission to Q’oor was far from classified, but the implication of Padme had Anakin’s heart thundering. When Anakin still did not speak, Palpatine linked his fingers together.

“I _know_ , Anakin…”

“Sir?” he said dumbly.

Palpatine smiled kindly. “About you and Padme.”

“I don’t… I don’t know what you’re—”

“You don’t have to pretend with me, my friend… I have never judged you or attempted to tell you what to do. You are a man who knows his own heart and mind and I have admired that in you from the beginning. I have friends in the Naboo clergy… word travels in small circles. I know about your marriage. I even heard this morning that there was a motion put in for… divorce…” His eyes were sorrowful as he spoke.

Divorce? She really did mean it. And Palpatine knew, all this time, and played along with the charade. Anakin had no air in his lungs and he felt ready to collapse. And yet, a weight was lifting off of him for the truth to be spoken aloud and he sucked in air.

“She means everything to me…” Anakin choked out the confession, and he found that he couldn’t stop once he started. He didn’t know how agonizing it was to bottle these secrets that defined him. “I’ve given her everything in me and I’ve risked everything for her. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do without her…”

He didn’t even realize that Palpatine led him to a chair, and the youth crumpled into it, gasping with the sobs that were festering inside. The old man’s hand patted gently at his back.

“I’ve been trying to understand what I’ve done wrong… Why she doesn’t want me… I should have just left the Jedi Order…That’s what’s been between us all this time. I don’t need them. I don’t care about the Prophecy, she’s all that matters.” That was the answer. He sniffed hard, his head suddenly clear and he rose to his feet. “That’s it. When I walk away from the Order, she won’t be afraid anymore.” He moved to walk right out of the office, but Palpatine’s hand was still on his shoulder, and held him in place with surprising strength.

“Just a moment, my boy…”

“I finally know what I need to do—”

“That is not the answer… I fear it may not be as simple as that…”

“No, it is,” Anakin could almost smile with the simplicity of the solution.

But the sadness in the Chancellor’s wise eyes held him. “I did not want to bring it up to you, and I should not like to suggest anything that I cannot prove… I have seen Padme Amidala on numerous occasions over the years, and there are certain things I have come to learn about her character and behavior that are unmistakable… On many occasions I have seen the singular way in which she regards… your Master… And the way that Master Kenobi regards her…” He closed his mouth, seeming afraid to say more.

“And…?” 

“And it was reciprocated… There was a very clear connection… Do you think it is possible that that attraction was rekindled in your last mission, which brought the two of them together?”

Anakin was staring, numb. “They have been friends for years, that’s all.”

They were friends. That was why Obi-Wan made a point to deliver her droid to her alone all those years ago when R2-D2 randomly arrived at the Jedi Temple. And Obi-Wan did not return until hours later.

That was why Padme risked her life to go to Geonosis to rescue Obi-Wan when Count Dooku captured him, against all orders to stay away.

That was why they were drinking together at the Lake House when Anakin was stuck repairing the ship, alone.

They _were_ friends. But what else…?

His head was spinning.

“Believe me when I say it is not my intention to place scrutiny on either Padme or Kenobi…” Palpatine said imploringly. “It may be the incorrect observations of a foolish old man…”

Chancellor Palpatine was the wisest man Anakin had ever known, and had always had the keenest observation of people. That was why he was such a powerful politician.

“I say it simply because I do not wish for you to leave the Jedi Order so hastily. They need you, Anakin. You are the most powerful Jedi they have ever had in their company, and it would be a great loss to you and your training if you were to walk away now. A great loss to the Galaxy…”

Anakin almost didn’t hear any of the rest. “Obi-Wan…” he couldn’t believe it. But the more he thought about it, the more he could not dis-believe it.

The only way to get answers was to talk to Obi-Wan himself.

* * *

The truth was out. Obi-Wan was in love with Padme. And the worst fears and conclusions that had chewed away at the back of Anakin’s mind were confirmed. Obi-Wan and Padme _did_ have a relationship. It meant that Obi-Wan had kissed her, touched her, felt her. And she did the same. The thought was enough to make him scream. He was catatonic between the intense desire to yell, retch, destroy, die, and cry. He did the most Jedi thing he could think of and secluded himself in deep meditation. It only made it fester deeper. Everything was simmering and he didn’t know how to relieve it and be free of it.

The flame that churned the venomous brew inside of him was the hatred. He couldn’t stop himself from how much he hated everything. He hated the Prophecy, the Jedi, the War, Obi-Wan… but the thing that he hated most was himself. Because it was his fault that he thought Padme loved him. No matter how much he hated and distrusted Obi-Wan, he could not deny that he felt the truth of his Master words, that Anakin had accidentally controlled Padme’s feelings. 

He never reached out to her. He was terrified of seeing her afraid of him again. Whatever anger he felt towards her about the lies was twisting into justification. Padme wouldn’t lie to him. She wasn’t capable of it, or if she was it was purely for the best intentions. She was trying to spare him the pain. 

He did not have the same benefit of the doubt for his master. He knew how deceitful Jedi were. He knew how apt his master was to conveniently omit truths. He didn’t lie to protect Anakin’s feelings. How could he try to protect something that he did not even believe in? And now, Obi-Wan had left the order and Anakin wanted to be glad of it, content with it. He couldn’t be. It felt like an injustice that Obi-Wan should leave, as if he was the one sprung from the prison, leaving Anakin behind. 

They all did.

Padme left him, Obi-Wan left him, and the Jedi Order itself treated him with the same distaste and distrust that they always did, only now there was no Obi-Wan Kenobi to smooth out the friction between them. Every day was one conflict or another between Anakin and the Jedi Council. They hated him, and the feeling was mutual.  
All he had left was Palpatine. His old friend was there for him, comforted him, supported him, and he never lied to him. Palpatine gave him purpose, reminded him that if it wasn’t for Anakin, they would be losing this war. Anakin knew this, he knew it with every battle he won. He didn’t care what General Kenobi was doing in the war, it was far away from him and had nothing to do with him.

There were countless nights when he was alone with his thoughts that he thought only of Padme. He was obsessed with what it would take to have her, to bring her back to him. He was determined to prove that, regardless of the crime he committed in affecting Padme’s feelings towards him, there had to be some part of her that did actually love him. He wanted to be worthy of her real love. But it was hopeless, he was trapped in the Jedi Order and carried off in this war that made him a hero. Being lauded and praised was small compensation for the void inside of him.

Palpatine, his perceptive and dearest friend, could see all of this. He could help. All the things that Anakin needed to accomplish to be worthy of the woman he loved more than life itself could be accomplished through one avenue: The Dark Side.

In the privacy of his office, the Chancellor revealed himself to be the Sith Lord, Darth Sidious, whom the Jedi had been looking for all these years. Anakin very nearly arrested him and brought him to the Jedi Council, but there came the promise for peace in the galaxy. It was Padme’s dream, the thing that consumed her life. If he could give that to her and eliminate all other obstacles… Perhaps he could have her again.

And what was a Sith, anyway? A bedtime story told by the Jedi, and the Jedi only. As the only side speaking in the argument, Anakin hardly took their word to be gospel. They held onto old dogma. Palpatine spoke in gentle, logical argument. More than anything, the greatest gift that Palpatine had ever given Anakin since the day he arrived on Coruscant, was that he allowed him to be himself. He never told him no, he never held him back. He offered freedom and wished him happiness.

With his powers as the Supreme Chancellor, and Anakin’s powers as the greatest Jedi ever known, they could accomplish anything.

Anakin took a knee, and when he rose, he had a new name. A name that would be revealed to the galaxy in due time. For now, he would wear the mask of Anakin Skywalker.  
What surprised him the most was how easy it was to fall into the dark. All he had to do was let go of the light that he had been gripping with white knuckles for as long as he could remember. The relief was so overwhelming, he didn’t feel like he was falling. He felt like he was flying… For a while, at least.

He fought all the same battles for the Republic, leading campaign after campaign with the 501st behind him, and as he fought, he no longer shied away from tapping into the anger and the pure joy of battle. He no longer let the Force guide him and instead he bent it to his own will. The light was getting farther and farther away, and there were moments after bloody battles where he felt the chill of regret sicken him, but the darkness was a permanent stain inside of him, and it was growing.

This was the plunge into darkness that needed to be made. It was the only hope he had to find peace, not for the galaxy, but for himself. And he knew to his very soul that he could never find peace without Padme.

There were only three things that had ever come between them: That he was a Jedi, Obi-Wan, and now the War.

This was when Anakin truly experienced the guile of the Dark Lord of the Sith. It was the Chancellor who set the pieces in motion for General Kenobi to be given orders for Renoss that he could not possibly obey, thereby branding him a fugitive and solidifying Anakin’s role as the loyalist whose devotion to the Republic never wavered, not even for his former Master.

He stoked the fire of distrust between the Jedi and the Senate.

He included Anakin in every step of his plan to be kidnapped by Count Dooku and General Grievous, so that Anakin could once again prove his worth and kill Count Dooku. It was also a means to get Anakin back to Coruscant from the Outer Rim Sieges.

He continued his honesty with Anakin. When he knew Obi-Wan and Padme rekindled their relationship, he made sure to send Anakin to arrest the traitor.  
Everything was carried out flawlessly, except for one thing: Obi-Wan. Where Kenobi was concerned, Anakin slipped. Twice.

After all these years, he had dreams of killing Obi-Wan in a variety of ways. But when he saw him again on Renoss, he was face to face with the wise mentor who had raised him, the man who treated him as a brother and a friend. The hate that festered in Anakin wasn’t reflected in his old master’s eyes. Obi-Wan looked… glad to see him. And Anakin never wanted more desperately to hold onto his hate. He tried, but the tighter he gripped it, the more it burned him.

He slipped, and he let him go.

Then when Anakin went to Padme’s apartment to arrest him, and again let him escape. Anakin then tried to lie to Palpatine about it.

“Is Obi-Wan Kenobi in custody?” Palpatine asked calmly, his back towards Anakin, his eyes out at the sunset of the city.

“He wasn’t there, My Master…”

“How disappointing…” the old man’s voice was low, delving into a dangerous register that Anakin had never heard before. “How disappointing that you would lie to me on his behalf. I sense the conflict in you…”

Anakin said nothing, he had no excuses.

“It is no matter,” Palpatine said easily. “The time has come for the final orders to take place. We will end this war and Obi-Wan Kenobi will be inconsequential. There will be other opportunities for you to correct this, Lord Vader. I know you will not fail me again.”

His name. Hearing it again reminded him of his new purpose. _Anakin_ was the weak one who could not arrest Obi-Wan. _Vader_ would not allow that weakness to control him again.

“What is your bidding, Master?”

“General Grievous and the Separatist Council are currently huddling on the planet of Utapau. Kill them all.”

The order had Anakin’s soul pulling at its leash in anticipation to be let loose, and he could already imagine the final gasping coughs of Grievous and the pleading of the Separatists. He smiled.

“Yes, My Master.”

* * *

Grievous gave him a little trouble, but the Dark Side proved to be a powerful tool. Anakin dueled with the cyborg for some time, for the fun of it, lopping off one arm at a time, before he closed his fist and crushed the armored shell around his heart and what was left of his brain and eyes. It oozed to the ground, and a good kick dropped him into the trash heap that he was.

The rest were easy to dispose of. They were cut down as easily as trees, though they made much more noise. He saved Viceroy Nute Gunray for last—that Nemoidian had been a nuisance for so many years. He had caused Padme so much grief since she was Queen, tried to kill her on countless occasions. Though, he almost wanted to thank the leader of the Trade Federation. Were it not for his invasion on Naboo 13 years ago, Anakin may still be on Tatooine. He could thank him by incinerating his insides with the blade of a lightsaber.

As he stood with the pieces around him, the smell of scorched metal, cloth, blood, and marrow, he breathed it in with the realization of just how easy it was to kill now that his hands were no longer tied by the “Jedi Way.” He felt powerful, but most of all he felt truly free for the first time. Of all the masters he had had in his life, from Watto to Obi-Wan, to the whole accursed council, he knew now that Palpatine would be his last. 

This was for the galaxy.

This was for _her_.

* * *

When he delivered the news of Grievous’s death to Padme, he very deliberately failed to mention that he had been the one to do it. That truth would come in time. Right now, it was enough to see the light of gratitude in her eyes, the end of the war that she wanted and he was bringing to her. He could feast on that gratitude and be sated forever. That was the easy part of the operation, however. What would follow would be difficult for her, but in time she would come to realize that it was the right thing to do. That he did it for her.

When he left her, he brought the news to Master Windu that he had been carrying inside of him for nearly a year: Palpatine is the Sith Lord. Predictably, Windu led what brave few of the Jedi masters were still on the planet to arrest or kill Lord Sidious. He told Anakin to stay at the temple, but Sidious had given prior instruction and told his apprentice precisely when to come in. It would be after the attack from the Jedi, when the Chancellor was on the ground wounded and seemingly defeated. The lie to sell to the Senate of the Jedi assassination attempt.

Mace Windu did not anticipate Anakin to walk into that destroyed office, to walk over Kit Fisto’s corpse, and to draw a lightsaber that was not blue as the sky, but red as the pit of a seething volcano. Windu could not deflect that red saber and the blast of hellish electricity from Lord Sidious’s fingers. The Jedi master was flung out the window in burning pieces.

All those years of Mace Windu talking down to him, holding him back, insulting him, and hating him was finally paid back in full.

_Order 66_ was called and the 501st fell in line behind their general. They razed the Jedi temple with blaster and lightsaber. If it moved, it was killed. This was the only way to start anew, to purge out the old. There was no discrimination between guards, padawans, knights, masters, or younglings. As he cut down each child, he saw only the removal of a sprout before it could grow into a weed. With every Jedi that fell at his feet, the path to a secure future was that much clearer. Padme was understanding when he told her about the Tusken camp. She would understand this.

As he worked his way to the tower of the Jedi Council chamber, where the last of the younglings took refuge, his lightsaber roaring in his hand, his hood low on his head, his cloak heavy on his shoulders, he had a moment of clarity in his focused purpose. This felt nothing like when he killed Grievous and the Separatists. Why couldn’t he smile this time? He knew some of these youngling faces as well as he knew Poggle the Lesser’s, or Nute Gunray’s. Killing them didn’t invigorate him. It left him cold. It hurt him. And that pain was surged with darkness to compensate. The more he suffered, the more his power grew. The cycle was as vicious as it was effective. This was for the galaxy. This was for _her_.

As for Obi-Wan, Anakin hoped for his old master’s sake that he was deep in hiding somewhere out of the reach of Clone Troopers. His fate was left to the petty _Will of the Force._ What he didn’t count on was Palpatine knowing that Kenobi was at the Varykino Lake House on Naboo, and he had already dispatched the 212th Battalion.

Anakin was willing to let Obi-Wan live, so long as he stayed out of his sight, and never set foot on the same planet as Padme. He felt a certain satisfaction in Obi-Wan always scurrying, feeling less-than and kicked off his pedantic pedestal where he couldn’t look down on Anakin anymore. From now on, he would have to look up at Lord Vader and know every wrong turn he had made in his entire misguided life. He would feel his fault in full.

* * *

Palpatine was now the Emperor of the New Galactic Empire. Everything was falling in line, and it was up to Darth Vader to ensure that every system followed in suit. He had a lot of work to do, and he knew that when the dust settled, Padme would be running into his arms again. Just as she did all those years ago.

* * *

Padme was on Naboo, and he was en route. The planet was soon going to be secure in the new Empire, he would make sure of it. 


	30. Chapter 30

Their legs were tangled together in bed, arms around each other, the blankets heavy on top of them. The wind howled low across the window as the morning breeze carried winter with it. Padme woke gradually, breathing him in, smiling when he snored. This was one of the many little heavens she found with him, and she never wanted it to end. She smiled brighter when she remembered the night before.

_Padme… Will you marry me?_

The sheer joy she felt at the thought of being bound to him, with no talk of keeping it secret or the possibility of it destroying them. This was what they were meant for—each other. She forgot to give a second thought to anything outside of this bed.

Reality was quick to remind her, though, in the form of a chime from her desk as a call came in. She reluctantly unfolded from her lover’s arms, throwing on a heavy robe as she tiptoed and hopped a little across the icy floor to her desk. It was a pre-recorded message from Governor Sio Bibble, his naturally worried face even more so as he gave the news.

“ _Senator Amidala… The Queen has received a communication that Lord Vader is en route. He will be here in a matter of hours. We are ready and waiting for you in the throne room._ ”

It was happening.

A snore came from the bed, and she realized the sound of the message had not even roused him. She looked across the room to where Obi-Wan was buried in blankets, where she could only see the edge of his shoulder as he lay on his side, sleeping deeply. It was dawning on her that this may be the last moment of peace they may ever have. The scourge was coming for them.

Her bare feet padded across the floor and she sat on the edge of the bed, leaning over him and combing the strands from his eyes.

“Obi-Wan…” she said gently.

“Hmmmph…”

“Wake up, my love…”

His eyes opened with great effort, mere groggy slits. An arm closed around her waist, and very slowly but irresistibly, she was pulled onto the bed with him. He was wrapped around her now, humming sleepily and so comfortably that she could not get herself to pull free. She wanted to laugh and cry.

“Obi-Wan! We have to get up…”

“We do not have to get up…” It sounded like a halfhearted mind trick.

“We do… The Emperor’s emissary is coming— _today_ …”

“Does he know he wasn’t invited..?” A cheeky response to something deadly serious. He sighed heavily and released her, but not before kissing the crook of her neck. He sat up in bed and combed his hair with his fingers as he blinked away the sleep.

She sat up as well, a question clawing in her mind that she never voiced, even through all the planning with the Queen and their days here together. She tried to keep it to herself, but here and now she couldn’t keep it any longer.

“Do you have to fight this Sith?”

His eyes met hers, and she detected the hitch in his breath when he finally saw the terror she was feeling. He only nodded, so subtly there was almost no movement of his head.

“Why? Why can’t you just run?”

“I could,” he said simply. “But that is not who we are… When darkness rises, there must be light to meet it. The Sith are a cancer to the galaxy. The darkness that they wield consumes and destroys everything, as it already has. I have been trained my entire life to oppose it at all costs.”

“Why can’t we just leave now, get away from everything?”

“I must stop Darth Vader…” he said weakly.

“It shouldn’t fall onto you… It was never meant to be _your_ responsibility to destroy the Sith…”

“It’s the responsibility of every Jedi,” he said simply. “But we were distracted with prophecy… I cannot turn a blind eye, Padme. Not when so many Jedi have fallen…”

It was beginning to sound like revenge the way he spoke of it. Perhaps it was, even though the Jedi were supposed to be above that sort of thing. But there were deeper things at play, an ancient code that she could never truly hope to understand, something in the flow of the universe that he could not resist if he wanted to.

She knew she had already said too much. She closed the distance, kissing him painfully slow and biting her tongue so hard it hurt. She refused to let herself voice any more fears or doubts. This was his duty, this was what he was meant to do.

When he moved to get out of bed, she didn’t stop him. Instead, she watched as he moved tentatively to the folded stack of clothes on the chaise. Piece by piece, he put on the layers of Jedi garments, and before her eyes he transformed back into the very knight who had stolen her heart so many years ago. The tabard squaring out his shoulders, the belt filling out his waist, the boots anchoring him to the ground and the deep brown cloak hanging from him as naturally as folded wings. He picked up his lightsaber from the floor, where he had dropped his belt last night, and hooked the weapon at his waist as he had done all his life.

It was real now. He was a Jedi again, and he was going into battle.

She slipped off the bed and inched closer to him, her hand tentatively setting on the sleeve of his thick robe. She’d almost forgotten what it felt like, and the nostalgia and the past pain crept into her. That need to run away with him was stronger than ever, but she knew that this was bigger than them both. They were fighting a new war now.

His arms closed around her, enveloping and warm. They didn’t need to say anything.

* * *

The Emperor’s emissary was expected to land in the main hangar of Theed, and that was where Obi-Wan waited.

There was a bitterly cold wind blowing through the empty city, the grey skies diffusing an even light over everything. Obi-Wan was sitting comfortably on a crate beside a Naboo fighter, alone in the vast structure, his arms tucked into his sleeves, his breath released in soft puffs in the icy air.

He was the perfect picture of calm, his heart steady. In the silence, he could feel the deep vibration beneath him from the plasma refinery that was adjacent to the hangar. In his mind’s eye he could still see the pillars of light that reached endlessly down into the planet’s core, and the silhouetted shapes of his master fighting a dual-sabered Sith.

He breathed out again, the past escaping in a puff of steamed breath. He breathed in the present.

Darth Vader was coming, he could feel the disturbance in the Force, hurtling towards him. He was ready to meet it.

* * *

Padme sat in the wide circle among the Queen’s council, beside Governor Sio Bibble, the young Queen in the center. Apailana was wearing the clothes and face paint of her office, but she was wearing pants, boots, and a close-fitting jerkin, her black hair woven tightly atop her head with ornate headgear that added surprising ferocity to her youthful face.

Padme, too, was dressed for any eventuality in her field clothes, her hair braided back and hanging over her shoulder, a blaster on her thigh. Captain Typho stood in the middle as he updated the Queen on the status of their forces throughout the city.

“We’re receiving a call from the emissary, Your Majesty…” a secretary announced.

Typho stepped aside as the holoprojector flickered to life in the middle of the circle of diplomats. The blue ghost that appeared was tall, a hood low over its features, the cloak draped like a shadow from wide shoulders to the floor, its arms folded and concealing any hint of a body beneath. It stood erect and strong, and Padme shivered in spite of herself. From where she sat, she could only detect the hint of a chin from beneath the hood, and it seemed to be human.

“Lord Vader,” Queen Apailana addressed him coldly. “I have already sent word of my intentions to Emperor Palpatine that Naboo will continue in its independent sovereignty from the Empire. We stand firm in our position.”

“ _Then prepare for martial law, Your Highness…_ ” Vader’s voice was low, but Padme knew she had heard it before.

“We are prepared,” she said sharply. “And we do not fear tyranny. We are not the first who will stand against this false regime, and we shall not be the last.”

“ _Nonetheless, Your Highness…_ ” Hands appeared from within the robes. One was gloved, the other bare. The hood was pulled from his head. “ _This will be your last stand. You are no match for the might of the Empire._ ”

The hologram flickered away and a heavy silence fell.

“That was…” Bibble whispered.

“My lady…?” Typho’s voice was hoarse and he was staring at Padme.

“Anakin…” she gasped.

All the safety of denial collapsed. Anakin was Vader. The massacres, the purging of the Jedi. His unfaltering loyalty to the Emperor. The Sith Lord. Anakin had fallen to the Dark Side.

And Obi-Wan was waiting to kill him.

“Your Majesty,” she was on her feet, panicked. “I must go to Obi-Wan! He doesn’t know…”

“Vader will be here any moment, Senator,” said Typho. “It’s safer for you here—”

“Obi-Wan doesn’t know…” She repeated it desperately, though she didn’t expect them to truly understand what this meant, even those who knew that they were like brothers. “I must get to him, Your Highness… I’m sorry…”

She did not wait for permission and Queen Apailana did not stop her. Padme ran from the throne room.


	31. Chapter 31

“ _Imperial ship incoming, sir!_ ” The Theed officer in the control tower called through the commlink.

Obi-Wan moved to his feet. He felt the approaching darkness even before the guard announced it. He faced the wide open doors of the hangar that revealed open sky. There were light flakes of snow beginning to fall, the winter wind howling low through the vast building. For this moment, he took in the peaceful silence, letting it penetrate and envelope him, sharpening his mind.

The grating of the ship’s engines echoed into the hangar before it came into view, like a hungry beast entering its cave. It was an old model Theta-class ship, its wings down-turned as it flew. In its approach to landing, those wings folded up and it came thundering into the hangar like a perching winged reptile, grounded on skis. He had seen the Chancellor use that ship. It was one of a kind.

The nose of the ship seemed to stare down Obi-Wan as he stood calmly in front of it, the gusts from its engines throwing back his robe and blasting him with hot air that countered the frigid winter. He kept his hands folded within his sleeves. It was very cold, after all. Though he could feel the Dark Side of the Force on that ship, he was not afraid. He was, however, curious.

The hatch yawned open, the ramp setting down with the wheeze of hydraulics, the steam escaping around it and obscuring the ship for a moment. Two clone troopers marched out and immediately aimed their rifles.

“Hold your fire!” a voice called out from within the ship.

The clones glanced to one another, but they obeyed without lowering their aim. Descending the ramp was a figure cloaked in black, the immediate giveaway of a Sith Lord if not for the darkness that roiled from him.

They descended and Obi-Wan first saw boots, then a leather tabard, then…

“No…” he couldn’t stop the word from choking out of his throat.

Anakin was stepping off the ramp in brisk, long strides, stopping a dozen feet or so away from Obi-Wan. He did not need to pull off his hood for Obi-Wan to recognize him. It was Anakin in face only. The eyes that stared at him from beneath the shadow of the hood were yellow, irises ringed with crimson.

“It can’t be…”

* * *

The storm was getting worse and the snow was falling thicker and thicker, the silent flakes thrown into wild flurries by the LAATs that were touching down along the length of Theed’s streets. There were more than she could count, and she could see more swooping down from the clouds to land in other parts of the city. They were being occupied in martial law and it threatened to paralyze her with defeat.

She couldn’t stop this invasion that they all knew was coming, but she could get to Obi-Wan. To warn him that Anakin had become a Sith. There was nothing to stop Anakin from killing Obi-Wan… Or Obi-Wan from killing Anakin…

“Senator!”

Typho’s voice called out to her over the roar of the landing troop transports. He had his blaster drawn, and there was a unit of Theed officers following him. More were positioning themselves defensively all around the pavilion, but especially around the palace.

“Captain, I need to get to the hangar…” Padme drew her own blaster. “Please don’t try to stop me.”

“I’m here to escort you, my lady.” He raised his blaster at the ready. “Head for that alley. We’ll cover you.”

“Thank you, Gregar…” This was beyond titles, and the ghost of a smile appeared on his face.

He took up a ready stance when the white-armored clones began to march out of the transports.

“ _By order of the Emperor of the Galactic Empire, put down your weapons!_ ” A clone voice called out over a loudspeaker. “ _Do not resist!_ ”

All of the Naboo aimed their guns, including Typho, and there was a moment’s breath.

“Go!” He barked to her.

She took off running at full speed and all at once the plaza was lit up with blaster fire.

* * *

“What have you done?”

It was all that Obi-Wan could force from his breathless lungs. All the horrific deeds of Darth Vader belonged to Anakin, against all reason and against destiny. He never wanted to admit there was such darkness in his padawan, but now it was manifest in the fire in his eyes. None of this was supposed to happen. Or was this the path he had always been on?

Anakin had told him from the start—that he would bring peace, that he would be the most powerful Jedi—and Obi-Wan had not truly listened. He did not think Anakin’s fear and ambition could take him this far. He was too blind to realize that it was Palpatine who had been leading him all along.

“I’ve done what you were never strong enough to do.” It was in the inflection of his voice, detached and lethally calm, that Obi-Wan knew Anakin was gone. There was only Vader.

“You’ve allowed the Dark Lord of the Sith to twist your mind and manipulate you,” said Obi-Wan. “That is not strength…”

Vader smirked, his predatory gaze dipping over the length of his former master. “You’ve put on those robes again as though they mean something, and you say I am manipulated. I’ve simply seen through the lies of the Jedi. I know my true power now, at last. The galaxy is unified, there is peace. Just as I swore there would be.”

Outside, there roared a battle. The capital was under siege.

“Peace…” Obi-Wan said weakly. “You’ve only replaced one war with another.”

“You continue the war by resisting. Queen Apailana cannot fight off the whole Empire.”

“Perhaps not…” Obi-Wan was no stranger to defeat. “But here will spark the ember of hope that will remind the galaxy that Empires built on fear and death are doomed to fall. You have become an agent for evil… because I failed you. I’m sorry, Anakin…”

Though he spoke to Vader, he hoped if there was anything left of Anakin there, he could hear him.

“You call it evil because you fear it. I’ve never been afraid of the Dark Side, but it wasn’t until I finally let it in that I felt its true power, and now I _have_ brought balance to the Force. _This is what I was meant for._ All you ever did was hold me back. So, I suppose I should thank you for abandoning me.”

The purely selfish perspective was expected of any Sith, but it pained Obi-Wan to hear Anakin’s voice saying it. He knew the love and heroism that his padawan was capable of, and it was not enough.

“You are not the first or the last who has ever suffered!” Obi-Wan’s voice echoed in the vast hangar, a pain in his chest. “To use your own pain to justify the pain you cause is not a show of strength, but weakness. You speak of Jedi deceit, and yet you have sworn allegiance to a dark lord who operates in lies and shadows!”

“My new master will teach me everything he knows, and my powers will continue to grow…” His shoulders squared as if he had triumphed already. “It is only a matter of time before I kill him too and reign over my own empire… Then I will have her beside me. My empire surpasses anything that you could possibly offer her.”

The mention of Padme made Obi-Wan bristle, the tick in his jaw concealed beneath his beard.

“You know it to be true, I can feel it,” Anakin was smirking again.

“I know that you are lost to your own ambition and jealousy…”

“Do not pretend that you are unwilling to kill me—to keep her.”

The futility of words was suffocating Obi-Wan. Everything he had ever said to Anakin throughout their lives, everything he had taught him, the words of encouragement and even affection, had meant nothing. It would not matter now anymore than it did then, and it was with defeated resignation that he spoke the words that didn’t matter.

“If it was for her, I would never harm you… But for the galaxy, I will do what I must.”

Vader’s chin lifted, undaunted and amused. “And what about for yourself?”

_Himself_. The question drove deep within, to a place no Jedi was permitted to look. Deep within, Obi-Wan knew what he wished, purely for his own heart. It was the same as Padme’s.

He could not act for himself.

So he would answer by calling the fight. Obi-Wan pulled his robe at the shoulders, throwing back his arms and letting the heavy material fold to his feet.

“You’re still a tool of the Jedi…” Vader said quietly. “Too afraid to act on your own. That has always been your downfall, Obi-Wan.” His own black robe slid off like a second skin and he stepped nearer. “You should not have come here, my old master… I already told you I would not let you go a second time.”

“I am counting on it.”

“Then you have chosen to die.”

In an instant, Vader vaulted into the air, a red saber flashing into view. In that same instant, Obi-Wan’s own lightsaber was in his hand, the blue blade blocking the red from coming down on his head, the clash flashing through the hangar.

Vader was fast, swiping his lightsaber in a fury of blows, his wrist fluid and sure, every strike aimed to kill. Obi-Wan fought on the defensive, parrying and blocking each strike, and realizing all too quickly that Vader was not simply boasting. He was stronger and faster.

Obi-Wan met his every move, all the while letting Vader push the fight. The Jedi master gave ground, defending and parrying until they found themselves outside of the hangar and in the open air of Theed’s streets. Framing the ferocity of their duel, the snow fell delicately around them at an easy angle, the flakes evaporating before they could even touch the blades.

Vader suddenly pulled back in his attack, but only to shoot his foot at Obi-Wan’s face, throwing the Jedi back into a spinning fall. Obi-Wan rolled on the icy ground, and just as he sprang to his feet, he was hopping backward, pulling in his stomach to narrowly avoid the sweep of the red lightaber. He brought his own blade down, forcing the red into the paved street, cracking the stone, steam rising from the snow.

A durasteel fist struck him across the face, knocking the blades apart. 

Obi-Wan was getting a little winded and Vader had yet to break a sweat.

* * *

There were explosions now throughout the capital. Padme had to hide and slink through the crevices of the city, between the buildings to avoid detection from the clone troopers who were rounding up the Naboo by the dozens.

Padme had taken cover behind the Banqueting Rotunda, its pillars more than enough to hide her. The circular structure was right against the riverbank that separated the Palace Pavilion from the hangars and plasma refineries. She pressed her back against one of the stone columns, her blaster close to her chest as she listened to the clone troopers as they marched by. Smoke was rising in the snowy air all over the city. Every stack of smoke was like a shot through her.

They were tearing her city apart. They were arresting her people. She was helpless to stop it.

All she could do was get to Obi-Wan and Anakin. If there was anything that might have been within her power it was stopping them from killing one another.

There was a time that the Jedi seemed immortal and invincible. He was among the last, and she could not bear the thought of a galaxy without him.

When it was quiet and there were no soldiers in sight, she darted for the river. The bridge was not only too far down the bank, but it was full of clones. They could not guard every inch of the river, and she found a small skiff. The seat of it was layered with fresh snow, which made every surface slick. When she hopped inside and started the engine, it inevitably drew attention.

“ _Over there!_ ”

She heard a clone call and blaster bolts were flying around her head. She flattened herself in the boat as much as possible, practically hugging the stern sheets. She lifted her blaster just enough to return fire. She didn’t even know what she was aiming at, but the return fire was enough to give them pause.

A shot hit the side of the boat, blowing out a chunk of it near her head. Water was shooting up in spouts where blaster fire hit around her, raining down in freezing droplets over her head, but the boat was still floating. There was more blaster fire, and they suddenly stopped shooting at her. When she dared to lift her head to look, she saw Typho and his men in a shootout with the clones.

The diversion was enough, she pushed the throttle and steered the rudder of the small boat to the other side of the river, practically crashing it onto the first bank that was low enough for her to climb out. She could feel the vibration of the power generators, their green domes looming overhead. She was almost to the hangar.

* * *

Too many close calls of that red saber coming close to his neck, his torso, or any limb. By a mere hair, Obi-Wan found himself deflecting and blocking, and he knew it could not go on forever. The farther he kept Vader at bay the better, long enough for Obi-Wan to spot an advantage.

Anakin had always been a skilled fighter, but he was frighteningly powerful now. Not only was he fast, he was focused and centered with a power that manifested from deep within, the darkest corners inside of Anakin that were always a thermo detonator waiting to go off. Anakin had detonated himself.

Vader’s lightsaber slashed and whirled in disks of exacting strikes. His body would spin in a full circle, and he could still twirl the blade behind him to slash or deflect any oncoming attack. Always moving, relentless and methodically mad. Obi-Wan’s form could not be more different with the Soresu technique that he had mastered. Equally deliberate moves, but bare minimal movement that was a calm foil to his opponent.

The very air cracked like thunder when the Dark Side burst from Vader’s hand, throwing Obi-Wan backward so hard against the stone wall of a building that it cracked on the impact, the Jedi hitting the ground momentarily dazed. Before he fully regained his senses, the Force pulled through him, instructing him to raise his lightsaber to block the crimson blade that was cutting downward to him. Obi-Wan was pinned on his back, Anakin standing over him, one hand holding his blade to Obi-Wan’s two hands.

Even without the assistance of the Dark Side or the Force, Anakin was strongly built. Now he was a monster of sheer brutality. He looked like a shroud of death against the white snowstorm that was flying around them, the flakes caught in the longer strands of Vader’s hair, seeming to glow against the black leather of his tabard. His eyes still a hellish yellow of rage. Scores of Imperial ships flying past overhead, half faded like fleeing ghosts by the low winter clouds.

Their blades were locked, flashes of energy sparking between the two colors. Obi-Wan’s teeth were grinding hard with the strain, that red blade ever so slowly overpowering and inching nearer to Obi-Wan’s neck. And Vader showed little more than a twitch of his lip. Obi-Wan’s arms were beginning to shake in the struggle, and he knew he couldn’t hold much longer.

Bringing up his knee, he struck the back of Vader’s leg, forcing it out from under him. It was enough to break the lock, to imbalance him for Obi-Wan to swipe the red blade away and raise his hand, palm practically touching the other’s chest.

Vader was launched backward by the push of the Force, knocked dozens of feet away and sent skidding in the fresh snow, a streak left by his body. Obi-Wan was on his feet, his chest heaving, hair in his eyes, but the blue blade given a clean twirl as he charged at his opponent.

Vader met him halfway, flying to his feet with impossible speed, the red saber aimed true for Obi-Wan’s heart. The Jedi deflected, his boot swinging skyward and knocking Vader face first towards the ground, Obi-Wan’s lightsaber swiping down behind him. He expected Vader to block from behind again, but the red blade instead swiped parallel to the ground for Obi-Wan’s legs, and the Jedi leapt up to dodge, the Force carrying him in a somersault over the Sith. 

Before his feet even touched the ground, Vader was charging at him again and blades clashed in another series of blows and deflections. Again, Obi-Wan was thrown back, this time he hit the ground hard, and he was slower to get up. He could feel the exhaustion with each clash, each use of the Force. Vader stood away, feet apart, his saber lowered but purring beside him like a beast ready to bite.

Theed was burning around them, the daylight choked out by the black smoke, ash blending in with the snow.

“Look at your peace, Anakin!” Obi-Wan’s voice tore, his hand waved at the war. His eyes burning with tears. “ _You chose this!_ ”

“So did you!” Vader bellowed through the rumble of a passing ship.

Obi-Wan raised his lightsaber in the Shi-Cho stance, the blade pointed perfectly perpendicular from the ground, his chest rising and falling heavily. They had both made choices, and now they had none left.

* * *

Her lungs felt like they were on fire, her legs wet and frozen, but she never stopped, no matter how many times she fell. She wended between the ancient buildings, stopping more than once to duck or lean out of sight of the clone troopers.

The ground rumbled with the battle that was happening around her, the sky roaring with the arriving Imperial ships. She didn’t dare stop, not even to catch her breath. She gripped her blaster tighter in her aching hand and pushed on through the ever-thickening snow.

The hangar was in sight, and when the frigid wind blew in just the right direction, she could hear the song of lightsabers, the occasional crash of the blades meeting. The sound was unmistakable, and it she could not hold in the whimper as she pushed on desperately. They were fighting, which meant they were both still alive.

Air was wheezing through her and she leaned heavily on the side of the building, her legs numb beneath her. There was a loud crack, and she looked in time to see the blurs of blue and red burst apart and halt, squaring off from afar. Through the mist of the snowfall, she could make out the shapes of both men. There was no doubt that the blue lightsaber was Obi-Wan, and that the dark figure was Anakin.

Anakin’s arm raised with his palm out, not towards Obi-Wan but just over his head, his fingers curled, his wrist rotating slowly and with it the sound of something rumbling.

Obi-Wan had heard it, but Padme saw it. The archway behind him was fracturing.

“No…” she gasped, her voice torn from the cold. She dropped her blaster and summoned the last of her strength to push off the wall. “ _Stop!_ ”

It happened all at once.

Obi-Wan saw her.

Anakin’s hand closed into a fist.

The archway shattered into a thousand flying boulders that came raining down.

Only then did Anakin see her and hear her scream.


	32. Chapter 32

The dust billowed out in a cloud through the street, obscuring everything from sight, even the falling snow. Before he had even known she was there, the Force shielded him from the attack, and the action drained him. When he heard her scream, his very blood froze over.

Obi-Wan did not need sight to find her. The Force guided him to her over the rubble and the chaos. He didn’t even realize he had dropped his lightsaber and he felt her. Miraculously, none of the massive pieces of the stone arch had landed on top of her, but in their trajectory they had blown into her and past her.

He felt her arm and the dust cleared enough for him to see the ghost of an image of her face, her eyes closed, red speckled on her temple, caked in her dark hair. There was broken skin and bruising on her clavicle, any other damage too internal or concealed from him.

“Padme…?” her name rattled from his lips.

She was alive, he could feel it, but it was weak at best and she was not responding. He didn’t dare move her, his fingers gently touching her cheek. She was already cold in the snowstorm. The ideology that he had sworn his life to was in his arms and it was fading. The Sith brought this. Always the Sith.

It was swallowing him, curdling in his mind and inflaming his body. He felt this once before, the possession and intolerable pain of the alchemy of all the emotions that a Jedi was told to swallow down and control.

His lightsaber, from wherever it fell in the still-settling rubble, flew back into his hand as he rose to his feet and turned around.

Through the rage, he didn’t see that Anakin was on his knees, his hands empty, his lightsaber on the ground next to him. He didn’t see the ruin in the young man’s face, or that his eyes were no longer yellow, but glossy blue.

Obi-Wan’s lightsaber activated.

In an instant he closed the space between them, his blade cutting through the air with every intention of severing Vader where he knelt. With a fraction of a second to spare, crimson sparked to life and locked with the blue.

With a hard push, Vader knocked back Obi-Wan’s blade, but the Jedi was rekindled with a fury that should have frightened him with how much focus it gave him. His blade spun with his body, swiping for limbs or body, and now it was Vader who was giving ground, fighting for his life.

The Sith was imbalanced, distracted, hesitant, and it was putting him in peril. With every parry or foil, Vader became sloppier and was getting pushed back, his legs failing him when the heels of his boots hit the ascending stone steps of a building and he landed hard on his back. A clean swipe of Obi-Wan’s lightsaber cleaved into the stone, drew a molten line, and took an arm with it.

A smoking stump was left in the middle of Vader’s left bicep, his arm rolling off the steps with the lightsaber still in the grip of his flesh hand. Obi-Wan’s blade stopped steadily after it had cleared his arm, deep in the stone, its edge hovering against the black fabric at his opponent’s ribcage.

Cutting through to the other side, splitting him in twain as he had done to Darth Maul, would have been the easiest thing in the world. The blue plasma burned away at the fabric, eating more slowly at the resistant leather, boiling skin. It would have been easy, if he did not find himself looking into his padawan’s pleading eyes.

The bloodlust was expelled and his compassion choked him with the shame he felt in losing himself. He turned off his lightsaber, his breath hoarse as he strained to catch his breath. Anakin was on his back, Obi-Wan standing over him, both ragged and breathless.

Plumes of black smoke filled the sky, blasters firing, engines roaring, and the snow still pure white as it fell in flurries over the carnage and the burned blood that colored the steps.

Anakin looked so suddenly small beneath him, curled into himself, clutching his severed arm. He looked up through damp, dark strands, his eyes blue and swollen with tears.

“I never wanted to hurt her…” he rasped, his whole body shaking. “Master… please…”

Not since the murder of Qui-Gon had Obi-Wan wished so desperately to hate and respond in kind. But he was not looking at a Sith anymore. This was his friend. His brother. And he was devastatingly alone and scared.

Obi-Wan forced himself to look away from the cringing boy, back to the rubble of the crumbled arch where Padme had fallen. Captain Typho and a handful of his officers were there, battle worn, but they had a small shuttle, and in Typho’s arms was the small body of Padme—limp and white. She was safe, but her light was flickering.

Everything in Obi-Wan was suddenly quiet.

The galaxy seemed to swallow him at the thought of her not being in it. _Even without her, there was more he could do,_ the Force seemed to whisper to him. 

It was as if something else was in control of his body, his hands suddenly steady as they hooked the lightsaber onto his belt. Leaning down, he took Anakin by his remaining arm and pulled him onto his feet. He took the boy’s entire weight.

Captain Typho carried Padme’s body onto the ship, and moments later he reappeared carrying only his blaster. He was on guard, watching from across the wide stone street as Obi-Wan approached, carrying a wounded Anakin. Typho looked ready to shoot, and Obi-Wan was ready to defend, if need be.

“Master Kenobi—?” Typho called out when they were near enough, but the sound of rapid marching turned his attention.

An entire unit of clones were marching between the jagged pillars that once held up the arch, and they opened fire. Typho and his men fired back, taking cover inside of their ship. Obi-Wan kept one arm around Anakin’s waist, the other drawing his lightsaber just in time to deflect the blaster fire that came his way.

“ _Hold your fire!_ ” One clone called out, raising a closed fist. “ _That’s Lord Vader!_ ”

They stopped shooting at Obi-Wan, but blaster bolts were still being exchanged with the ship. He heard a pained groan from Anakin, the boy lifting his head, his arm over Obi-Wan’s shoulder gripping tighter. The blasters flew suddenly from the hands of the clones, clattering hundreds of feet away. In that moment when they were unarmed, Typho and his men easily shot them all down.

Obi-Wan was stunned as he watched the clones fall dead.

“Let go of me…” Anakin was pulling away, no matter how tightly Obi-Wan held on.

“I’m not leaving you…”

“Go, Master!” He managed to slip free, but before he buckled to his knees, Obi-Wan caught him again, chest to chest, Anakin’s chin heavy on his shoulder, his breath hoarse with pain. “You can’t save Naboo… And you can’t save me… It’s too late for me… I destroyed everything…”

He had never heard the sound of defeat from Anakin’s lips before. It truly was too late for Naboo. For Padme. Everything the Jedi Order had taught him about the Sith, the Dark Side, told him that it was truly too late for Anakin. But if he left him here, he would once again be leaving him for Palpatine.

More clones were coming.

“Master Kenobi!” Typho was shouting from the ship. “The city is fallen! The Queen has been captured, she’s ordered us to retreat! Hurry!”

He held on tighter to Anakin and tried to move, but a set of durasteel fingers latched around his throat, and he was suddenly thrown in the direction of the ship. Obi-Wan was barely able to land on his feet, his boots slipping on the icy ground.

Anakin was teetering where he stood, his robotic hand clutching at his shoulder where his arm once was and the charred indentation where lightsaber had met his ribs. He was pale, his eyes still wet, but glaring hard.

“Don’t come near me, Obi-Wan… I’ll kill you…”

The threat seemed so empty, but he recognized what his apprentice was trying to do. He wore the black robes of a Sith, and had helped to bring about the fall of the Republic, the Jedi, and Naboo.

But he was trying to save his master. There was still light in him.

“Come with me, Anakin!” He had to shout over the roar of a passing ship, and he outstretched his hand. “It is not too late—for either of us!”

Anakin shook his head and tears fell. “I can’t… I must finish what I started… For her… I will pull the Empire apart from the inside and I will kill the Emperor myself. I promise you.”

“We can be more powerful fighting side by side—”

“Not against Sidious…”

“Anakin—”

“Go!” His durasteel hand shot out, and from it a blast of the Force so powerful that it knocked Obi-Wan clear against the ship.

Typho was pulling him off the ground just in time to return fire to approaching clones. The engines were roaring to life in the shuttle and it took everything in his power to not run back to his friend but instead to sprint with Typho into the ship just before the ramp shut. As the ship rose into the sky, snow and smoke was disrupted by its engines, the black figure of Anakin swallowed up in it.

Gun ships came at them and the small shuttle had meager guns to defend it as it fired back with everything it had. Obi-Wan felt a surge in the Force from below and one of the gun ships suddenly careened into another, both of them exploding into a fiery ball. Anakin was destroying Imperial ships to aid them in their escape, even though he had such little strength left.

The shuttle darted from Theed, down the wall of the canyon to the landing platform below where Padme’s skiff waited. Obi-Wan carried her on board, flanked by Typho and his men. Her handmaidens, R2 and C-3PO were already on board. Every turret and gun was put to use as they blasted their way past the incoming Imperial ships. In the orbit around the planet, space was alive with the battle between clone starfighters and Naboo fighters, the latter providing enough cover to help any ships trying to flee the planet.

They broke free and vanished into hyperspace.

* * *

“Padme…” He held her hand tightly with one hand, the other braced against the bulkhead beside the cot that she had been strapped into. “You must hold on, my love…”

The ship bucked and thrashed with the barrage of fire on them, but Obi-Wan would not leave her side. Preliminary medical care had already been given to her, bacta applied to the flesh wounds. But the deeper injuries needed more. They needed to get to a medical facility, in which this ship was not equipped.

She was unconscious, and her heartbeat was slow, weak. He released her hand so that he could set his fingers to her face. He couldn’t hear her or feel her. She was dying.


	33. Chapter 33

They broke free of the blockade and they made contact with Bail Organa. When he heard about Padme’s emergency, and the other injuries that Typho’s men had sustained, he gave them coordinates to an unknown planet where they could hide.

It was uninhabited and was only identified by Alderaan and handful of systems as a potential mineral resource for future mining. It was close to Naboo (close in relative space), called Crait. Bail’s ship, _Tantive III_ , was not the only vessel currently on the planet. There were others who were hiding and regrouping from the Empire. It was a vast, snow-white wasteland, the concealed earth beneath a red clay as red as blood.

Obi-Wan could taste the salt in the air as he carried Padme from her skiff to _Tantive III_ ’s sickbay, C-3PO and R2-D2 close at his heels. Its medical center was much better equipped with emdee droids and supplies, and Obi-Wan prayed that she could hold on a moment longer.

They took her from his arms and kept him away while the droids operated. _Tantive III_ did not have an operating theatre in which he could stay present. They could do nothing but wait and Bail directed him to the conference room, and it was there that Obi-Wan found Yoda. The Jedi Master was worn, beaten and ashamed. The comforting aura that usually surrounded Yoda was all but snuffed, and the he had never seemed so small as he was now, hunched over in his chair, his head bowed, his ears drooped.

Obi-Wan had not expected to see him, and now that he did, he could not find words. He silently approached, sinking down onto his knees in front of Yoda’s chair, his head hanging heavily.

“I’m sorry master… I could not do it… Anakin is still like my brother… and now Naboo has been lost… and…” he could not even speak of the possible loss of Padme. The very thought sent his heart into shock and made breathing hard.

“Failed, too, I have…” Yoda said solemnly. “Too powerful are the Sith… And too late, I fear, we already were…”

He was weak and every part of his body hurt, but Obi-Wan managed to pull himself up into the chair beside Yoda. The smaller master swiveled his chair with the Force to better face Obi-Wan.

“Into exile, I must go… Until right, the time is.”

Obi-Wan was silent. He could not think farther than Padme. Somehow, the Force had bound her fate to his. Whatever happened to her would dictate his destiny. If she should die, he knew he would continue to exist. He had to. He always did. But the universe would be hollow.

“Abandon hope, we must not, Master Kenobi…” Yoda said after a heavy pause. “Still there, it is… Far away, but feel it I can. Into hiding, we must go. Somewhere distant, I will go. Somewhere else, you and Senator Amidala…”

Hearing her name pinched inside of Obi-Wan, and he managed to raise his aching eyes to his master, and he could not stop the sting of tears in them.

“But Padme…” _What if she dies?_

“Lost… many lives have been…” Yoda said solemnly, so deep a sigh escaping him that it did not seem possible from so small a body. “But not lost, is Padme…”

Obi-Wan stared, confused by his certainty.

“To the med bay, go…” Yoda gestured towards the door. “Waiting for you, she will be.”

He did not question Yoda. Pure trust moved his body out of the conference room and through the stark white corridors of the cruiser, until he found himself again at the med bay. She was laid out on a bed, changed into a softer medical gown and a blanket laid over her. An emdee droid hovered at her side, monitoring vitals and holding a biological scanner over her body.

She was still, but as Obi-Wan entered, her head moved just a little, her closed eyelids twitching.

“Padme!”

The emdee droid moved aside and allowed him to be closer, in which Obi-Wan immediately leaned in close, his hand against her cheek. There she was, he could feel her, hear her voice inside of him though there were no words.

“Padme…” he said again more softly.

“Obi-Wan…” Her mouth hardly moved, she was so weak, but her eyes fluttered open just enough for the rich color of her eyes to peer up at him. And she breathed in, a clean full breath, the ghost of a smile on her lips.

He managed a smile too, it was easy when he knew she was looking at him, even though the terror had not quite left him.

“You’re safe…?” she whispered.

He took her hand and placed a kiss on the back of her knuckles, lingering, warm, and he felt her finger outstretch to stroke his beard.

“I’m fine…”

“And… Anakin…?”

That was more complicated, and much more painful. But he could answer one thing with certainty, to give her some peace.

“He’s alive…”

She breathed out. It was relief. Her hand turned in his so that her she could fully touch his face and he leaned into it, his whole being melting into the cup of her palm.

“Stay here with me…?” Her voice was distant.

“Always, my love…”

Her eyes closed and her head lulled to the side. She was only asleep, too weak to stay awake. He did not let go of her hand, but he looked to the emdee droid that bleeped beside him.

“Will she be alright?”

The droid’s lifeless eyes flickered. “She received great internal blunt damage, but with a few bacta treatments, she will heal completely in a matter of days.”

Finally, Obi-Wan could smile genuinely, a prayer of thanks sent into the Force.

“It will also please you to know that no damage was done to the baby either.”

Obi-Wan stared at the droid. “ _Baby?_ ”


End file.
